


Please don't take my sunshine

by Tommykaine



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adultery, Blackmail, Cheating, Coercion, Dreams and Nightmares, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Femdom, Hallucinations, Het and Slash, Incest Undertones, Internal Conflict, M/M, Mental Instability, Original Slash, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Psychological Horror, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reality Bending, Seduction, Sexual Confusion, Sexual Tension, Sexuality Crisis, What is even this story anymore, marital sex, now get ready for Unreliable Author, you've heard of Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-04-03 21:10:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 35
Words: 138,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14004846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommykaine/pseuds/Tommykaine
Summary: A married man's life is changed forever by a chance encounter with a stranger.Who is that mysterious man, and why does Andrew keep seeing him everywhere, even in his dreams?Just when he thought he might have imagined it all, the man shows up in his office and his boss announces they will be working together! Was it really fate that made their paths cross in such a convenient way, or is there something more? What secret is hiding behind those piercing black eyes, and why can't Andrew get them out of his head?





	1. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I had originally written for a fandom challenge (COW-T, eight edition), but it turned out longer than expected, so I decided I'd make it into a multi-chapter story.
> 
> As hinted by the title, this was loosely inspired by the song "You are my sunshine"
> 
> Each chapter will have roughly the same length and (unless there are unforeseen circumstances) I plan to update with a new one weekly.
> 
>  
> 
> **IMPORTANT: More tags might be added for later chapters. There will always be an additional warning for any new tags in the AN of that chapter.**

 

 

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine_  
_You make me happy when skies are gray_  
_You'll never know dear, how much I love you_  
_Please don't take my sunshine away_

[You are my sunshine - Jimmie Davis & Charles Mitchell]

 

 

“Working hard again, Andy?”

Andrew raised his eyes from his computer, casting a tired glance over the man in front of him.

“What is it now, Derrick?”, he asked dryly, in no mood for the other's shenanigans.

“Whoa, cold. Ever the ice princess, huh?”, Derrick remarked, laughing as the other man narrowed his eyes at him. “Relax, man. I was just wondering why you were still here, that's all.”

_It's none of your business_ , Andrew thought. “I'm catching up on my schedule”, he replied instead.

“I see, I see! The old grouch has dumped all the work on you again!”. Derrick laughed again, the sound grinding into Andrew's brain like a drill, making him grimace.

_That's cause you always slack up_ , he thought. “Shouldn't _you_ be at your desk too?”.

“Oh, don't worry about it. I'll just catch up before the weekend”.

Andrew narrowed his eyes again. “Last time you said that, I had to come in Saturday to fix your mess”, he reminded him.

“Oh come on, still going on about that? That was ages ago, man! Come on, why don't you come too for a change, unwind a little?”, Derrick insisted, nudging him in the shoulder.

“Derrick, really, I don't have time for this. If I don't finish this part now I'll have to do it all over again tomorrow”, Andrew replied, putting his eyes back towards the monitor and his fingers on the keyboard, typing up another string of numbers in his spreadsheet. He completely ignored the other, pretending as if he was no longer aware of his presence.

_I'd wish!_

“Hm, is that so...”, he heard him mutter.

Before he even knew it, his screen suddenly went dark, the whirring sound of his computer dying off as the power was cut from it. Andrew stared at it for several moments, frozen in horror, then his gaze trailed down to the plug on the pavement, stuck into the power strip on the floor, and on the tip of the other man's shoe which was still pressed on the switch.

“W-what... _what have you done?_ ”.

Andrew's voice was small, half-choked in his throat, as if he was about to cry. He stared in shock at the other's face, unable to process what had just happened.

“I'm freeing you from your self-constructed prison”. The fucker wasn't even _slightly_ sorry about it.

Andrew felt a surge of rage rise up inside of him, but he pushed it back, letting himself fall limp against the back of his office chair. Hours of work, gone in a flash. He didn't even want to think about it.

“Wow man, you look terrible. Something tells me that you need a drink!”, Derrick commented, smiling like the devil.

Andrew didn't even have enough willpower to glare at him.

The last thing he wanted was to give him the satisfaction of going along with his plans, but the bastard was right. He _did_ need a drink.

“You're paying”.

“Of course, of course! Well, first round, at least! Come on, let's get out of here!”

 

 

The sound of the music playing in the background of the bar was a welcome change from the monotony of the tunes played in the office. Always the same station. Sometimes, Andrew thought he was going to go insane if he had to listen to _you are my sunshine_ one more time...

“Hold my beer, gotta pee”, Derrick mumbled, getting up and stumbling away before he could even say a word.

Of course, he went and got himself absolutely shitfaced. Typical Derrick. Andrew wouldn't have been surprised if the main purpose of why he had been dragged there was to be his ride home. He sure as hell wasn't going to let the other drive in that state.

Sighing at the thought, Andrew took a swig of his Cuba Libre. He guessed that had to be his last one, then.

He was so immersed in his thoughts that he barely noticed the man slipping into the seat right next to him until he spoke.

“You're here alone?”.

That voice was so deep and mellow, it almost fused together with the smooth music. Yet, Andrew could distinguish every single word.

“Nah I'm just... I'm just waiting”, he replied, feeling his own voice sound raspy and clunky in comparison. He cleared his throat, taking another sip of his drink.

“Ah, so you're with a friend?”, the stranger asked, tilting his head and glancing at the half-filled glass next to Andrew's. “I take it that's his beer. He has good taste”.

“He's _not_ my friend”, Andrew snapped, realizing he had sounded way too rude than he had intended to. “I mean, we just... he works in my same office”, his lips stretched into a somewhat bitter smile. “He's the one who dragged me here”.

The other man smiled back. “I see, so in that case, you won't mind me stealing his beer right?”, he asked, grabbing onto it before Andrew could even reply.

He shrugged. Whatever. The prick deserved it. His bad for bringing him there to babysit his drunk ass.

“So who are you anyway?”, he inquired, staring at the tall figure next to him. His features were bland, somewhat nondescript, but his sharp black eyes seemed to cut straight into his soul. It made him kind of uncomfortable.

“Good question”, the man noted, his lips stretching in a wide smirk. “Let's say my name is, uhm, Alphonse. Nice to make your acquaintance, Andrew”. He raised his stolen drink and clinked it against Andrew's.

_What a pompous na-_

“Wait”. Even in his current state, it didn't escape him. “...how do you know my name?”

“Ah, that must be Derrick,” the other ignored him, looking up behind him. “Your friend here was telling me all about you”.

“All dirty lies and slander,” Derrick mumbled, trying to sit back on his chair without stumbling all over on the floor in the process. He looked about as graceful as a bull in a China shop, but at least he didn't spill anyone else's drink. For once.

“So you work together. What kind of work?”, asked Alphonse.

Andrew was still staring at him in confusion, wondering if he was going insane. Something was telling him that even if he tried to confront him the man would just escape his questions.

“Just regular office work I guess. Nothing special. I'm a data analyst, Derrick is my junior.”

“ _Anal_ being the keyword!”, the other commented with a raunchy laugh, so loud that it made several other patrons look towards them, much to Andrew's embarrassment. “This guy's a real workaholic I tell you. Some day he's gonna bust a blood vessel or something from the stress, if I don't do anything about it”.

_Maybe if you did your damn job I wouldn't have to be so stressed_ , he thought, grabbing onto his drink and emptying it with a single gulp. To hell with driving him anywhere. He could very well walk home. See if he cared.

“Some people work hard, some hardly work. It's not easy to find a good middle ground”, Alphonse remarked, swishing his – or rather, Derrick's - beer around in the glass before downing it at once.

Derrick's eyes glanced at the now-empty glass in the man's hand, squinting as if he was struggling to see straight. “Hey, isn't that my...”

“Next's round on me. I recommend trying their Black Devil Martini, it's to die for”, Alphonse proposed with a tempting smile.

That immediately shut down Derrick's protests, while Andrew shrugged his shoulders.

_Why the hell not?_

It's not like that evening could get much weirder.

 

“ 'sawwright, I can walk, let me... _uurk!_ ”

Derrick crumpled up on himself, spilling the contents of his stomach on the sidewalk as Andrew grasped on his arm to stop his fall, grimacing as he felt the other's warm puke spray on his leg.

“Your friend doesn't look so good”, Alphonse noted, taking out a pitch black cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up.

A sickly-sweet scent drift up towards them, and Andrew felt himself getting lightheaded all of a sudden.

“I can drive you home”, the man offered, staring into him with such intensity that he felt it boring into his mind, not for the first time that evening.

“Don't worry, I can walk”, Andrew was quick to reply, trying to help his junior get back on his feet, with little success.

Alphonse chuckled in response, taking another drag before tossing down the still-smoking cigarette and stepping on it with the tip of his well-polished shoe.

“Maybe you, but not him”.

Andrew held back a frustrated sigh, knowing he was right.

_Goddammit Derrick!_

“Let's get him in the car”. Alphonse walked up to them and grabbed onto Derrick's free arm, helping Andrew guide him back towards his vehicle.

“There we go, now let's get you in there”, Andrew encouraged him as he opened the door and helped him up, stepping in first to pull him inside

“...ssok, can... 'self”, mumbled the barely-conscious man, half-heartedly attempting to climb up as Alphonse pushed him from behind, until thanks to the effort of both of his companions he was finally laying down on his side across the back seats.

“I'd suggest you stay with him. If he starts to get sick again, tell me and I'm going to pull over.”, Alphonse proposed, holding out his hand. “The keys?”.

“Are you sure you should drive? Maybe we'd be better off calling a cab...”, Andrew replied, looking at him with hesitation. Sure, he seemed sober enough, but he had drank almost as much as him, and he didn't know if he had anything before meeting them either.

“You'll need the car to get to work” _._

_Damn._ He was right again. Besides, Angela would have killed him if she knew he had left his car at some bar for the whole night. He had no choice.

“Fine”, he gave up, pulling out his keys from the pocket and handing them over.

“Good boy”, Alphonse murmured in his deep soothing voice, and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

There was still something that unnerved him about the man, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

_There's no need to be paranoid,_ he told himself. The guy was just being nice.

 

“I'll stop by his place first, if you don't mind”.

Alphonse's voice brought Andrew back to his senses, and he batted his eyelids, looking around in in confusion. He must have fallen asleep.

He looked out of the window, and immediately recognized the street. Derrick's house was only a couple minutes away.

“How did you...”

“I saw his address on his license, before, when he tried to pay the barista with it”, the other replied before he could finish, throwing him a quick glance through the rearview mirror. “I've got a good memory for that sort of thing. It comes in handy”.

_I'm sure it does._

“Do you think you could help me get him inside? I don't think he's gonna wake up till next morning,” asked Andrew, before grimacing at his coworker. “ _If_ he will wake up at all”.

He knew their boss would not be too happy if he ditched his work without warning, and that was putting it lightly. The last thing Andrew needed was for him to get fired less than a week before their deadline.

“He's gonna be fine. He's still at that age where his body can recover from pretty much anything”, Alphonse remarked, his amusement clearly audible in his voice. “I'd be more worried about myself, if I were you.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “I'm not _that_ old”.

“Won't your wife wonder what you've been up to all night?”. Alphonse's gaze pierced into him again, with the same intensity as before.

Andrew quickly looked away, staring at the raindrops that had started trailing across the window.

“She knows I'm not that kind of guy”, he murmured.

“Oh?”, Alphonse smirked again, letting out a short chuckle. “ _What_ kind of guy?”

“The risk-taking kind”. He didn't know why he was even telling him those things. Maybe he really was drunk, after all.

“Sometimes it pays off to take a risk or two, don't you think?”

Andrew shook his head. “Not when you've got a family to take care of”.

“She doesn't work?”

“Kind of...”. Andrew let out a small sigh. “She's a freelance artist. Children book's illustrations, character designs, that sort of thing.”

“But she's not good at it?”

“No! I mean, yes! She's amazing. It's just... it's not something you can depend on to feed a whole family.”

Andrew sighed again. Why was he even giving explanations to a stranger? It was none of his business. He probably didn't even care.

“So you're stuck in a miserable job, under a boss that you hate, while she's out there living her dreams”, Alphonse commented, making him wish he had never opened his mouth.

Andrew glared at him. “I'm not _miserable_. I'm the best in our department. He knows that.”

“Does he ever acknowledge it, though?”, Alphonse insisted, chuckling again when he didn't answer. “Just what I thought”.

_You piece of..._

“Ah, we're almost there I think. Last house on the left?”.

Andrew looked out again.

“Yes, just behind the laundry mat. You can park there, it's the quickest path too.”

“Alright then. Let's get our sleeping beauty back into her castle”.

Andrew helped him carry a very unconscious Derrick up the staircase, struggling to one-handedly get his door open and to turn on the lights inside. The keys clinged in his hand as he blindly slapped the wall to try and hit the switch, letting out a small triumphant noise as a faint click confirmed his success before the light filled the room.

He kept casting glances behind himself as they brought him inside, treading past the minefield of scattered clothes strewn all over the floor. Finally, they hoisted him over a couch before Andrew went to collect a blanket from one of the clothing piles, wrapping it around the man's sleeping form, and a waste bin which he placed next to his head in case he needed to puke again during the night.

“You've done this before”. Alphonse was watching him intently as Andrew went to collect Derrick's phone charger from a cluttered table, plugging it in next to the couch before fishing the phone from the man's pocket, attaching it to the cable and placing it on the armrest.

“Yeah,” he murmured, browsing through the apps until he found the one he was looking for. Of course, there was no alarm set yet for the next day. He groaned as he made sure to add at least two, making sure that one of them would be repeating on all working days, and throwing in a third one for good measure. “He's just hopeless. I don't know how he survived this long on his own.”

“Can't be that long. It always takes a while to adapt after moving out from the family”, Alphonse commented, looking at the mess that reigned supreme in the room. “I'm sure he'll figure it out”.

“If he doesn't get himself fired first”. Andrew felt like he was already about to get a headache merely by _thinking_ about how to get both of them out of trouble the next day. He was going to have to call him before work, he already knew it. “Come on, let's get going. At least _one_ of us has to wake up in time tomorrow.”

 

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, also because Andrew kept drifting in and out of sleep.

“Hey, this is your stop”, Alphonse warned him, shaking him awake. “Should I park on the front?”

Andrew didn't even remember telling him his address, but he figured he must have done so while half-conscious since the other had no trouble finding his house.

“Yeah, that's fine”, he mumbled, unable to hold back a loud yawn mid-sentence. Man, he was knackered. “Ah, thank you, by the way. Sorry I couldn't be of much company”.

“It's alright. I'm sure we'll have all the time to talk another time”, Alphonse replied, patting his shoulder before turning off the engine, handing him back the keys. “Goodnight, Andrew”.

“Goodnight, Alphonse”.

He didn't tell him that he seriously doubted they'd see each other again in the first place.

He was almost at the door before it occurred to him.

“Wait, how will you-”, he turned back to ask him, freezing in mid sentence.

Just like that, he was already gone.

_Huh._

He hadn't heard him move. Surely he should at least have been able to see him walk away, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

_Did I just... imagine him?_

He shook that thought from his head. He must have left in a hurry.

_At least it saves me the trouble of offering him to stay._ He knew Angela wouldn't have been happy to have some stranger under their roof, even if it was to repay a favor.

Speaking of which... he really hoped she was already asleep. Regardless of what he had told the man before, he still didn't want to have to explain why he was coming home so late without warning.

 

 


	2. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Andrew's wife, Angela, for the first time.
> 
> (If you are curious as to how I picture her, I pretty much imagine her to look like a cross between Jennifer Connelly and Eva Green)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the porn (doo doo doo doo)
> 
> PS: had to delete this chapter and reupload it so if you got a double notification that's why, sorry!

 

“I've called you like seven times!”

“Sorry!”

“ _Seven,_ Derrick! You told me you'd be on your way _over an hour ago!_ ”

“I'm sorry, I just...”

“ _You fell back asleep again._ I know. You don't have to tell me!”. Andrew hissed, giving him a stern glare. “You're lucky Mr. Stevenson hasn't come in yet! Go to your desk _now_ or I swear I'll personally glue you to your chair”

He spent most of the morning making up for the prank that Derrick had played on him the previous day. He still hadn't forgiven him for that, even if he knew there was no point in resenting him. It wasn't like that was gonna help him work faster.

At least now all numbers were adding up. In fact, he hated to admit it, but it was working a lot better than it did before. He guessed there really was a silver lining to every cloud.

“So, is it finally coming along?”, a stern voice behind him asked, almost making him jump.

“It's getting there”, he replied, turning around to face the older man who was currently staring at his computer, impatience written all over his craggy face. “Good morning, Mr. Stevenson.”.

“It better be!”, his boss barked out, ignoring Andrew's pleasantries. “I want to see a full report on my desk by the end of next week. I don't want to see either of you move your ass from your desk until it's done.” his cold eyes glanced over at Derrick, who just smiled sheepishly.

“Consider it done”, Andrew assured him, turning around to get back to his spreadsheet. The other man however didn't move from there. Instead he rested his ass against the desk, wrinkling the edge of the documents that were piled up in that spot, and picked up the framed photograph next to the computer.

Andrew gritted his teeth, his fingers hammering away on the keyboard as he tried to ignore the way the other openly leered at his wife.

“How's Angela?”, Stevenson asked him, his fingers tracing the outside of her figure from atop the glass. “I can't wait to see her at the next business dinner... especially if she'll be wearing that sexy red dress again.”

Andrew drew in a deep breath, trying not to let his irritation show through.

“She might be busy”, he curtly replied, cursing at himself when he messed up a formula on his page.

“I'm sure she'll make time for it. She knows how important it is for you to make a good impression, right?”. The man's tone let him know that it wasn't just a request, one hand coming to rest on his shoulder and squeezing firmly. “Can't keep that hot piece of ass all to yourself, right Andy?”

Andrew didn't say a word, tensing up in his chair until the other laughed and put down the photo, getting up to walk back to his office.

“What a creep”, he hissed once he was sure the other was gone, picking up the by now creased documents and throwing them in his desk drawer, slamming it shut with so much force that Derrick shuddered.

“Ok, but... _is_ she gonna wear it?”, his junior whispered in an all-too-hopeful voice, rolling over to him in his chair and wincing at the glare he received in response.

“Not you too!”

“Hey, not my fault if your wife is hot”. Derrick raised his hands in defeat and scooted back to his place when Andrew threatened to stab him with a pencil. “It's not a crime to have eyes.”

“Good, then keep them on your work instead.”, Andrew replied, shaking his head. “Are you even _remotely_ _close_ to finishing?”

“I'm trying but my head is killing me, man”, Derrick complained with a pained grimace.

 _Good,_ Andrew thought to himself. “That'll teach you to get drunk before a work day”

“Hey, I didn't _mean_ to! I just have the self-control of an hyperactive 4-year-old”.

Andrew shook his head again, turning his attention back to his own work. “You're lucky that guy drove us home. I won't be walking you back another time”, he warned him.

“What guy?”

Andrew froze on the spot. For a few panicked seconds, his mind flashed back to when he had seen him all but disappear into thin air.

_Did I really..._

“Oh right, _that_ guy!”, Derrick piped up, his words sending a wave of relief over Andrew's tensed body. “I almost forgot about him. What was his name again?”

“Alphonse”, he replied, his mind conjuring back the image of the stranger's deep, piercing gaze.

And, for the briefest moment, he could have sworn he felt those eyes on him again.

He held back the urge to turn around to check.

_How ridiculous._

  


  


“About time!”, his wife's voice greeted him as he closed his door behind him, hanging his jacket on the coat rack and dropping his keys in the bowl by the entrance.

“Sorry, Ange, I really had to get ahead. I don't want to have to pull an all-nighter again”. Andrew hurried to join her in the living room, smiling as he saw her sitting in front of her easel, her jet black hair pulled up in a messy bun.

 _She sure is a sight for sore eyes_.

He sighed, dragging himself towards the sofa on the opposite side of the room and throwing himself on it with a muffled thud. He kicked off his shoes, leaning back on the pillow as he stared at Angela, who was still painting. Her paintbrush moved with long swift strokes, her green eyes transfixed by the canvas.

“You've also been working hard, I see”, he noted, his gaze moving towards the picture itself. It portrayed a young girl in a flowing white dress, who seemed to have fallen to the floor in shock at the sight of a fiery bird – Andrew guessed that had to be a phoenix. He remembered the figures being barely more than an outline against the meadow in the background, the previous night. She must have been at it for the whole day.

“Valentine went out with a friend. I thought I'd take the occasion, the one time I have the whole house to myself”, she explained, switching for another smaller paintbrush and perching up on her stool to refine the feathers on the bird's wings. “My friend Amy – remember her? She works in publishing... anyway, one of her authors is coming up with a new fantasy series, she asked me if I would be interested in working on a book cover for the first one. If they like it, I might get dibs on the next ones too!”

“They'd be crazy not to like it. It might be the best thing you've ever done”, Andrew replied, admired.

She scoffed. “You say that of _all_ my works”.

“What can I say, you keep exceeding my expectations”, he defended himself, resisting the temptation to get up and pull her into a hug. Both because she would have killed him if he made her mess up a line, and because he was too exhausted to move again.

“Dinner's on the table, but it's probably cold by now”, she said, ignoring his flattery. “Sorry if I don't join in but I'm really in the zone right now.”

Andrew held back a groan at the prospect of having to walk up to the kitchen, thinking he'd much rather lie there and watch her do her magic. However, his stomach grumbled loudly at the mention of food.

_Dammit._

With a resigned huff he pulled himself up and went to eat, not before throwing a surreptitious glance at Angela's ass. Hard to avoid when it was all but slipping out from her jeans due to her crouched position.

He couldn't entirely blame his boss for lusting after her.

Still, the old bastard could at least have had the decency to keep it to himself.

  


Andrew had almost drifted off to sleep by the time his wife opened the bedroom door.

He looked up at the noise, perking up as he saw her walk up to the bed and crawl on top of him, clad in nothing but a large towel.

“You've got some paint left on you”, he noted, grinning at her.

“Huh? Where?”. Angela looked all over herself, confused.

“Right... there!”, he said, reaching out to rub his thumb on her collarbone. Then, before she could react, he grasped on the front of her towel and pulled it down. His grin widened as her large breasts popped out with a small bounce.

“Hey!”, she protested, swatting his hand away, but she was grinning as well.

“I didn't hear Valentine come back”, Andrew noted, his eyes darting back and forth from her face to her exposed chest.

“Oh, he left me a message, said he'd be sleeping over at Michael's”, she replied, her hand moving down to caress his chest.

His grin grew even wider. “So we're all alone...”, he said, his voice lower and huskier. His hands moved on her back, pulling on the soft fabric to peel it off of her. He couldn't help but gasp as her beautiful body was completely exposed to him.

“Precisely”. She grabbed onto his hands and placed them both on her waist, closing her eyes and tilting her head as she felt them travel on her sides, down to her hips, and then back up towards her chest, gently cupping both of her breasts at once.

“God, I've missed this so much”, he murmured, rubbing his thumbs against her nipples and feeling them harden under his touch. He heard her breath hitch as she arched her back, pushing her chest forward.

“Me too”, she gasped, looking at him with lust in her eyes. Her hips started moving as she straddled his groin, pushing her ass against him until she felt his cock rise in his boxers.

It had been weeks since they had gone all the way, either because he was too tired or she was already asleep by the time he came back home. That damn project was killing his sex life.

He sometimes even wondered if his boss was pushing more and more work on him on purpose as the deadline approached, but then he told himself not to be so damn paranoid all the time.

He pinched her nipples, tweaking the tips as they puckered up under his fingers and flicking them until she gasped out loud, her hips moving faster.

He felt the front of his underwear growing damp. The outline of his cock was soon clearly visible as her crotch rubbed against it, her wetness soaking into the fabric.

“Raise your ass”, he hissed, moving one hand between her legs as soon as she complied, his digits slowly tracing the outside of her pussy. He spread her lips open, teasing her entrance with the tip of his middle finger and feeling it twitch in response, her sticky fluids soon covering most of his fingers as she impatiently thrust herself against his hand.

He finally pushed his finger in up to the second knuckle, feeling her inner walls clench around it as if to swallow it in further. He slowly started to move it, pushing it in and out of her warm crevice, curling it to press on the spongy area he could feel just a few inches in, rubbing it against that spot until he felt her moan softly.

In the meanwhile, his other hand still groped her breast, squeezing it a few times before focusing back on her nipple again, pinching and pulling on it.

“Ah! Andrew...”, she cried out, trying to follow his movements with her hips as if to incite him to give her more. Her whole body was flushed, her mouth slightly agape, and that sight made his cock even harder.

Andrew pulled out his fingers, moving both hands on her thighs to pull her in closer. “I want to eat you out”, he said, and she didn't wait to be told twice. She crawled forward until her pussy was a mere few inches from the man's face, her folds ever so slightly twitching in anticipation; her arousal was glistening on them like nectar on a flower.

Andrew just stared at it for a moment like a man stranded in the desert would gaze upon a spring, taking in the sight without a word.

Then, he moved in and started licking on her inner lips, the saltwatery flavor of her fluids spreading on his tongue as he pushed it in, lapping at her entrance. He kept going at it as if in a trance, his grasp tightening on the soft skin of her thighs as if he feared she'd pull away at any second.

Angela had no intention of doing so, but she was growing impatient with how he was toying with her without giving attention to her most sensitive spot. Finally she grasped onto his hair, her fingers digging into his brown locks as she pulled on it, hard enough to hurt, guiding his mouth towards her still-covered clit.

Andrew obediently complied, his tongue circling around the sensitive nub, alternating quick strokes with long, slower licks, bringing his own fingers close to the tip to pull on the hood and expose more of it before closing his lips around it and starting to suck. She started to cry out loud, tugging on his hair and clenching her thighs around his head so hard he could barely hear her, his ears muffled by her soft flesh.

Andrew let her set her own rhythm, going back to licking her with a gentle but steady pace whenever she pulled back from him, overwhelmed by the intense stimulation. He continued like that until she would start pushing herself against him, almost smothering him between her thighs, at which point he would go back to sucking on her engorged clit, her pubic hair tickling his nose .

Angela's body convulsed on top of him as she neared her orgasm, one of her hands moving to grasp on the headboard to help her keep her balance. The other was still clenched on his hair, so hard that she was pulling some of it off of his scalp.

She kept riding his face with reckless abandon, to the point where he was struggling to breathe, but he just doubled his efforts in response, feeling his own heart beat so loudly in his ears that he almost feared his eardrums would explode.

Finally she came, barely holding back a scream as her whole body shuddered violently a few times; her warm fluids were still flowing all over Andrew's mouth and chin, nearly drowning him in it, but he didn't even try to pull away.

When his wife dismounted from him to flop down on the mattress beside him, still panting heavily from the aftermath of her climax, Andrew felt so dizzy he had to shake his head a few times to make sure he wasn't losing consciousness.

“I thought I would die,” he said between gasps. He was also short of breath, although for very different reasons than her, and all too aware of his erection which was straining against the fabric of his boxers, creating a small tent.

“Sorry...”, Angela murmured, turning on her side to look at him. Her raven-black hair was sticking to her face, her body covered with a fine sheen of sweat, and her green eyes lit up with passion as they caught sight of his arousal. Her hand moved to rest on his stomach, lazily petting his belly hair, following his happy trail down to his waistband. Her fingers slipped underneath, drawing imaginary circles into his pubes with her nails, before grasping on the edge of his underwear and pulling down until his cock sprang free in the air.

Andrew wiped his chin with the back of his hand and moved in closer to kiss her, closing his eyes and waiting for her lips to disclose before slipping in his tongue, intertwining it with hers. He moaned into her mouth as he felt her fingers wrap around his dick, stroking him until he pulled back from the kiss and took a hold of her wrist to stop her.

“Wait... I want to go all the way today”, he whispered, letting go of her hand to place his own between her legs. Pushing his fingers inside her, he felt her inner muscles clench against the intrusion as she gasped, spreading her legs to give him easier access.

“Alright. Just let me get my towel again...”, she said, getting on all fours as he pulled out his fingers, now coated in her wet release. She crawled towards the end of the bed, her ass lifting as she leaned down from the edge, stretching out her arm to try and pick up the towel without getting up.

Andrew felt his throat getting dry at that sight and decided he had no intention to wait any longer; before she could say anything, he flipped her over and pushed her down on the mattress, climbing on top of her. His fingers slid inside her again without encountering resistance.

“Ah! Andrew, come on, it'll make a mess”, she half-heartedly protested, but made no attempt to stop him. In fact she opened her thighs again as her breathing grew faster and heavier. Her eyes closed in bliss as he cupped one of her breasts and leaned down to suck on her nipple, moving his fingers inside her until he was sure she was completely relaxed under his touch.

At last, he moved back to pull down his boxers and take them off, throwing them aside. He positioned himself so that his cock was lined up against her entrance, rubbing the tip between her lower lips until it was slathered in her fluids. In response, Angela wrapped her legs around him to pull him in closer, urging him to get on with it.

Andrew couldn't wait anymore. With a slow movement of his hips, he finally pushed himself inside her, moving forward until his whole length was enveloped in her warmth. He closed his eyes and savored the moment for a while, resisting the urge to start thrusting away; mainly because he was worried he might just cum in no time, but also because she was clenching around him too hard.

He could tell it was from discomfort. It had been a while since he last was inside her like that, so she would have to get used to it again.

Once he was sure he could continue without risk, he opened his eyes again.

And froze on the spot.

_What the..._

Andrew shot his head up, his eyes fixed on the figure that was standing in front of his bed, smiling in the most unpleasant way. Those black eyes met his gaze, staring into Andrew's hazel ones as if they could read into his soul, making his hairs stand on end.

“Andrew?”

Angela's voice called out to him in confusion, and he felt himself panic. He glanced down at her, seeing her turn her head back to look at the source of his distress, but as soon as he raised his gaze again...

_Wait, where did he-_

...the intruder was nowhere to be seen.

“What's going on?”, she asked, perplexed.

“N-nothing I just... I thought I had seen...”, he stammered, shaking his head and closing his eyes again, half expecting the other to materialize out of nowhere again once he opened them.

But there was no one else there.

“Trust me, if Valentine was back we'd have heard him by now”, she said, laughing at his embarrassed expression. “Come on now, don't leave me waiting”, she quickly added, squeezing her legs behind him and digging her heels into his back as if to urge him to move again.

“Don't worry, I'm not planning to”, he replied, grinning at her impatience. He regained his composure, holding on to her waist as he started to thrust inside her, feeling his orgasm build up with every push.

Angela threw her head back on the mattress and held on to the bedsheets, gasping out loud every time his cock reached deep inside her, squeezing down on it with her pelvic muscles. Soon enough she was writhing in pleasure underneath him, her eyes glazed up and her lips ajar, soft moans escaping from them.

Andrew, on his hand, was trying hard to delay his own climax, trying not to think about...

_His eyes._

...how good it would feel to let it out inside her right now, and how close he was to the peak.

“Angela”, he cried out after a few more minutes, feeling as if he was about to explode if he held it in any longer. “I'm...sorry... I'm g-going to...”.

“That's fine”, she replied, moving one hand down between her legs to start touching herself. As soon as her fingers started playing with her clit he felt her pussy clamp down on him as if she was trying to squeeze him dry. “Cum, Andrew, I want it all!”, she encouraged him, her whole body quivering as her fingers picked up the pace. “Shoot it inside me”.

Andrew didn't wait to be told twice, arching his back as his balls rose up. He emptied himself inside her with one last powerful push, a drawn-out groan escaping his lips. His entire body shook for a few seconds, his hips moving on their own in a series of quick shallow thrusts as the last remains of his semen spurted out of his cock.

He collapsed on top of her, barely holding himself up with his arms as to not suffocate her with his weight. His spent erection was quickly deflating, slipping out of her body as her inner muscles squeezed around it as if she was trying to milk every last drop out of him.

He was vaguely aware of her continued movements underneath him, her warm breath tickling his ear, faster and faster, as she brought herself to orgasm in a matter of minutes.

  


Neither of them moved for a while.

They just laid against each other, catching their breath and basking in the warm afterglow.

“Andrew, your legs...”, Angela protested at some point, wriggling away. “You're cutting off my circulation”.

“Ah, sorry”. He moved aside, waiting for her to get comfortable before wrapping his arms around her, sighing with contentment as she rested her head against his chest, hugging him back. He brushed her hair with one hand and lazily played with it, coiling the dark strands around his fingers.

“I should get another shower”, she murmured, her legs tangling with Andrew's as she hooked one of her ankles behind his calf, as if to prevent him from moving away. In that position, he could feel the mixture of their fluids leak down on his thigh, a sudden thought popping into his mind.

“Are you still on the pill?”, he asked. In the heat of the moment, it hadn't even occurred to him to make sure they were in the clear.

“Yeah, don't worry, I never stopped taking it”, she assured him. “I like not having to deal with periods”.

Andrew made an approving sound, closing his eyes and relaxing again.

It wasn't that he hated the idea of having more children, but things were more complicated now. He barely had time to see Valentine as it was, there was no way he'd be able to be around to help with a newborn, and she would have to put her work on hold too. They could live comfortably with the money they earned now, but would have to scrape by in order to feed another mouth, especially if they were to depend entirely on his salary.

Somewhat more selfishly, he also didn't want to deal with the sleepless nights again, nor did he want to fight for Angela's attentions. Besides, he knew she wasn't too keen on the idea of dealing with the whole process all over again either.

She'd been miserable for months when she was carrying their son, hating everything from the bloating to the sickness to the way her body changed without being able to do anything to control it, to the point where he feared she would grow to resent him for doing that to her.

They were much younger then, more idealistic and more reckless too. They had expected everything to work out without giving it too much thought. Looking back on it, he had come to realize they had taken a huge gamble.

He was glad they did, though. He loved his family. He was very fond of Valentine, even if he was so unpredictable at times. He only wished he had more time to actively be a part of his life, because sometimes he felt like he barely knew him at all.

He was still musing about those things when his tiredness caught up with him, and he rapidly drifted off without even realizing it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for next week's chapter!
> 
> Any feedback is always appreciated <3


	3. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens!  
> And maybe not only the plot ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay! I was out of the house for most of yesterday so I didn't manage to finish editing the chapter in time.  
> On the plus side I'd say from now on the story really picks up the pace since Alphonse is back in the picture.

 

“Andrew? Are you awake?”

Angela's voice felt so distant, but he could feel her warm breath against his face.

Her hand was moving along his thigh, drifting towards his balls and cupping them, giving them a gentle but firm squeeze.

“Hnn... what time is it?”, he mumbled, still half-asleep. He felt her mouth close on his ear, licking and nibbling on his earlobe, making him shiver.

“We've got plenty of time, don't worry...”, she reassured him, closing her hand on his flaccid cock and stroking it until it started to come to life.

“You're really eager tonight”, he said with a small chuckle, opening his eyes to stare at her still-naked body.

“I was thinking, it's not fair you only got to come once”, she replied in a mischievous tone, pushing him until he was laying on his back and leaning down to plant kisses all over his neck. “Maybe I should repay the favor.”

“Man, aren't I in luck”, he said, his lips spreading in a full-toothed grin. He let out a small groan as he felt her mouth move down on his chest. Her tongue flickered on one of his nipples before biting down on it, making him hiss in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

He looked up and-

_Not again!_

Alphonse's eyes were staring back at him, his face a mere few inches from Andrew's.

He shut them close, expecting the other to vanish again once he opened them, but this time the trick didn't work.

The other man didn't say anything. Instead he reached out to touch his face, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from Andrew's eyes, which grew wide at the sudden contact.

He wasn't imagining _that._

It felt way too real. It had to be.

“Angela!”, he called out in panic, freezing in place as Alphonse's fingers trailed down his neck, tracing his collarbone.

“What?”, she asked, looking up at him with the same amused expression as before.

“C...can't you... can't you see him?”, he insisted, his tone small and fearful.

_Am I... imagining this?_

“Of course I can. What about him?”.

She tilted her head, seemingly puzzled by his reaction. Andrew felt like he was going insane.

_What do you mean “what about him”?! This man broke into our house! How can you just-_

“Ah!”, he gasped out loud again as her lips moved down to his cock, wrapping around the tip of his half-hard length before she slowly engulfed the whole thing into her mouth, sucking on it right away. “Angela wai- _mpf!_ ”

His protests were cut short by Alphonse's lips, the man's fingers tightening around his throat to keep him down. His kiss was harsh and demanding and it set his whole body on fire.

It felt as if every nerve of his body had been awakened by that contact. Andrew was suddenly hyperaware of how the fabric of the sheets underneath him was rubbing against his skin, sending warm shivers down his spine. When Alphonse's other hand moved on his chest, his fingers barely brushing his nipples, Andrew arched up and moaned into the kiss. His cock was now fully erect inside his wife's mouth.

“Eager little thing”, Alphonse whispered once he pulled back from him, licking his lips. “I'm going to enjoy playing with you, I can already tell”.

_No!_

“Angela stop it, I can't do it like this!”, he protested, trying to force himself to push both of them away, but he found that he couldn't will his body to move at all. He could only watch with growing panic as she ignored his words and instead intensified her efforts to bring him closer to his climax.

“You can try to fight back all you want, it's useless”, Alphonse taunted him, his fingers circling one of his erect nipples until he was writhing in both pleasure and frustration. “Well, I guess it does make this more fun for me, so go ahead!”.

“S-stop... touching me... you creep!”, Andrew hissed at him, a strangled moan escaping past his gritted teeth when the other man pinched and twisted on his nipple, his cock twitching happily in response.

“That's not really what you want, now, is it?”, Alphonse replied with a small chuckle. “You should be more honest with yourself, Andrew...”

“Ngh! I s-said... _take your fucking hands_... _OFF... of m-_ ”

  


“-ME!”. Andrew jolted awake.

He looked around in confusion, batting his eyelids.

Angela made a small noise in her sleep, her body sprawled all over the bed in a rather ungraceful position.

His heart was still racing. He sat down on the mattress and wrapped himself with the blanket, feeling exposed.

_What the hell was that dream?_

It wasn't the first time he had an erotic dream of course, nor one featuring someone else than his wife, but why the hell did it have to be _that guy?_

_I don't even like men,_ he thought. He was sure of that. Had he been twenty years younger, maybe there would be more reason to doubt it. But he was well past the age of sexual confusion. It didn't make any sense.

He could have understood if it had been some pretty boy type; one of those baby-faced guys that could have been mistaken for a girl under the right light and after enough alcohol. Not some ordinary bloke that he had randomly met and would have forgotten about in a couple days had it not been for that weird-ass dream.

Hell, it would have made more sense if it had been _Derrick_ – as much as he would have kicked himself for even thinking that. He was enough of a nuisance without having to bother his sex life as well.

Still, he at least _knew_ Derrick, while he knew nothing at all about this guy, except from his name. For all he knew, maybe that wasn't even his real name. That was how little he knew about him.

_This is insane._

And the worst thing was, he could feel his cock crying for attention, fully hard beneath the blanket.

There was no way he was going to be able to go back to sleep like that.

_For fuck's sake_ , he thought, clenching his fists and glancing aside at his wife to make sure she was sleeping.

It was ridiculous. He felt like a teenager fearful to be caught masturbating to some sort of bizarre porno. Still, he really didn't want to have to explain to Angela why she caught him jerking himself off in the middle of the night right after they had been fucking like rabbits.

With a resigned sigh, he pulled the blanket off himself and got up from the bed, careful not to make too much noise. He picked up the towel that she had been looking for the previous night, wrapping it around his waist. Just in case Valentine had gotten back in the meanwhile and might be meandering around the house. The last thing he wanted was to greet his son with the sight of his exposed arousal.

Then, he slowly walked up to the door and ventured outside, making his way towards the bathroom and locking himself inside. There, he finally tossed the towel aside and went to stand in front of the toilet, unceremoniously wanking himself off so that he could be done with it as soon as possible and call it a night.

He desperately tried not to think of the man's warm voice as he stroked himself, tried to prevent himself from imagining it whisper against his ears, from recalling the incredibly vivid sensation of Alphonse's hands on his body, of his sudden rough kiss and the way it had seemed to set his body alight, of his black eyes staring at him so intensely that his knees felt like they were about to give out...

_Fuck._

He came with a low, strangled moan, that image burned into his brain as he squirted out his release straight into the toilet bowl. Some of it hit the seat with the last few spurts.

_What the fuck is wrong with you, man?,_ he asked himself, hitting his head against the tiled wall.

He tried to push the thought out of his mind. At least now he could go back to sleep.

With some luck, in the morning he would already have forgotten all about it.

 

 

“Hey, Andy? Andy?”

Andrew rolled his eyes, turning to his side to face the source of that nuisance.

“What is it?”, he asked.

“Nothing man, just, you've been awfully silent all day. Are you alright?”, Derrick inquired, looking around to check their boss wasn't around to see them chatting instead of typing.

Andrew scoffed. “If you've got the time to waste to keep track of how much I'm talking, you should be already done with your work by now”, he noted, turning his attention back on his screen.

“Come on, Andy, I'm serious”, the other protested, pouting in a way that reminded him of Valentine's Why phase.

Maybe that was both the reason why he couldn't stand him and why he didn't straight up tell him to fuck off all the time. It was a bit like dealing with an unusually tall child. One he never signed up to be responsible for.

_Well, sorta. After all he_ is _my junior,_ he told himself.

“What is it, trouble in paradise?”, the other man insisted, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Derrick. I'm warning you...”.

Andrew was just about to tell him to mind his own damn business when he heard the door open. He shut up immediately, gluing his eyes to the computer screen. He could hear Derrick furiously typing next to him to make sure whoever had entered wouldn't suspect he was slacking off.

_Tsk. Amateur,_ he thought, smirking to himself.

“Gentlemen, I'd like your attention please”, Stevenson announced, clearing his throat. “...and ladies, too, of course”, he added as an afterthought.

Andrew reluctantly interrupted his work again, hoping his annoyance wasn't written all over his face as he turned around-

_What..._

-and felt his blood drain from it.

“I would like you all to meet your new co-worker, Mr. LeFranc”, Stevenson continued, waving his hand towards the tall man next to him, who smiled warmly and gave a small nod in their general direction. His pitch black eyes met Andrew's for a split second, but if he had recognized him he gave no indication of it.

_A dream... this has to be another dream,_ Andrew thought, sneakily pinching himself. _Ouch!_

He most definitely _wasn't_ dreaming.

As if the situation wasn't weird enough already, next thing he knew his boss directed the man towards their workstation.

“This is Andrew Murray, your senior. You will be working with him on our newest project, as we discussed”, the older man explained, each of his words echoing in Andrew's mind.

Senior? Working with him? How come he hadn't heard anything about this before? The man never mentioned a new hire. Hell, he thought they were on a strict budget.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Murray”, the man said, offering his hand up for a handshake. “I'm Alphonse LeFranc”

_I know that,_ he thought, forcing himself to smile at him instead before shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too”. He tried not to think about how eerily familiar that contact felt, nor at how nervous it was making him.

“And this is Derrick Thomson, who is also working on the project”.

“Nice to, uhm, meet you Alphonse”. Derrick glanced up at Andrew, who was a bit relieved to see him look as confused as he was. At least now he knew he wasn't going nuts.

“It's my pleasure, Mr. Thomson”, Alphonse replied, shaking his hand. His expression didn't change one bit, as if he was genuinely meeting the both of them for the first time.

“Unfortunately we don't yet have your computer set up for today, so I'd suggest to take the occasion to familiarize yourself with the office. If you have any question, ask Mr Murray”, Stevenson said, before shooting a quick glance towards Derrick. “...or Mr. Thomson, too, I guess. But don't let him get too distracted from his work.”

Derrick couldn't hold back a grimace at those words, but he was at least smart enough not to retort. Andrew was grateful to him for that. The last thing he needed was to have to help him save face in front of a newcomer.

Stevenson seemed satisfied enough by the arrangement. “Well then, let's get back to business, shall we?”, he concluded, before walking out of the office again.

Andrew stared at his back as he left, his mind categorically refusing to accept the situation. Derrick, on the other hand, barely waited for their boss to be gone before practically launching his seat towards Alphonse.

“Uhm, so, weird question maybe but haven't we met before?”, he asked, to which the other laughed.

“You're right. The other night at the bar, right?”, Alphonse replied, seemingly amused by the situation. “I swear I had no idea... I just moved in, you see. What a small world!”

Andrew didn't say anything, but he felt his head starting to pulsate as if he was about to get a migraine.

“Isn't this great, though? With three people we'll be done in no time”, Derrick noted, to which Andrew couldn't hold back a grunt.

“You aren't looking at the big picture, are you? If he's bringing in someone else, that means he's got something in mind. We're probably gonna have to work even harder for the next one”, he said, grimacing at the thought. He had hoped he could have some peace after their current project was done, but now he doubted that'd be the case. And not only because of the extra work.

“Don't worry Andrew – if I may call you Andrew”, Alphonse replied, smiling encouragingly. “I've told you before, I have good memory. And I learn fast too. You can count on me”.

_I sure hope so_.

“Have you worked in this field before?”.

“Oh, I've done a bit of everything, and I'm not afraid of pressure,” said Alphonse. “Just tell me what I've got to do and I'll get right to it.”

_So the answer is no._

“I'm going to be honest with you. I don't have time to pamper anyone. You either do your job, and do it well, or face the consequences. Still, if Mr. Stevenson thought you'd be a good addition to our team then I'm gonna trust his judgment”, Andrew told him with a certain reluctance. “With that said, if you have any questions please ask _me._ Derrick really doesn't need any more excuses to get distracted”.

“ _Hey!_ ”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for next week's chapter!
> 
> As always feedback is appreciated <3


	4. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get increasingly gay  
> #yes homo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Warnings: in this chapter there is a brief instance of homophobia

 

Andrew hadn't been sure of what to expect from him, but Alphonse proved to be a valuable asset in the coming days. Almost more than Derrick had been at first, in fact. Which admittedly wasn't all that surprising.

Once they finally managed to submit the report he couldn't hold back a sigh of relief. As much as he was worried the next one would be just as cumbersome and time-consuming, if not even worse, at least this one was over.

“We should go celebrate!”, Derrick proposed, prompting Andrew to glare at him.

“The last time we went out, we had to literally drag you back home”, he reminded him. The other merely huffed in response.

“Come on, we always go out to celebrate after reaching a deadline! Think of it as a family tradition”, Derrick insisted, much to Alphonse's amusement.

“I'll drive you home if you need me to, it's no bother”, the man said, placing his hand on Andrew's shoulder. “We've done a good job. There's no harm in celebrating that. Right?”.

Andrew tensed up for a second, before forcing himself to relax his body.

He hadn't had another dream as vivid and detailed since that night – in fact, he'd been coming home so late and so thoroughly exhausted that he felt like he didn't even have the energy left to dream at all.

Yet, there had been some moments when he could have sworn he had seen him again – barely even a glimpse out of the corner of his eye – in situations where he would have no reason to come across him. Just the other morning, while brushing his teeth, he'd caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. His thoughts seemed to freeze as he saw him standing right behind him.

He'd whipped around as fast as he could, but the other was gone in a flash.

Or, more realistically, he'd never been there in the first place.

The man never moved or said anything, he only stood there and smiled in the most unnerving way, staring at him as if he could see right through him.

Andrew kept telling himself it must have been the stress and the fact that he hadn't been sleeping well. Angela had remarked that he kept moving around in his sleep, and that he sometimes mumbled to himself.

One night he had woken up sitting on the floor in the bathroom, his back aching like hell and his legs almost completely numb. He still had no idea of how and why he had gotten there in the first place. He'd never sleepwalked before in his entire life, not even when he was a child.

As if that wasn't bad enough, when he was in the office he kept getting this feeling at random times that the other was observing him, almost scrutinizing his every move. He was seated right in front of him (Stevenson hadn't trusted Derrick not to try and chatter away with the new guy instead of working) and Andrew was sure he could feel him staring from above the short panel that separated their desks.

He had tried to brush it off but that feeling just wouldn't leave him. He was unable to concentrate on anything else until he checked.

No matter how many times he had raised his gaze on Alphonse's face only to find him absorbed in his job or on his lunch, or writing down things on his notebook, or occasionally staring into space as if lost in thought. Andrew's mind was still screaming red alerts at him.

It came to the point where _Alphonse_ eventually caught him looking and smiled at him with a clear look of confusion on his face before looking down at himself, probably wondering if he had ink stains on his shirt or something.

 _You're the one making things weird,_ he told himself. He tried to not let it affect his interactions with him and if the other had noticed anything weird in his behavior, he didn't show it. He was as polite and friendly as he had been the first time they had met each other, did his job well and without pestering him with questions, but also didn't go off by his own initiative without first consulting with him and Derrick.

On his part, Derrick seemed to really like him but also to be somewhat intimidated by him. He didn't bother him just for the hell of it like he did with Andrew and he had yet to play one of his pranks on him, but he did talk to him nonstop if given the occasion.

Alphonse didn't seem to mind; usually he would try to find some excuse to get back to work rather than tell him to shut up. Too bad Derrick wasn't very receptive of subtle cues, so half of the time Andrew would have to scold him anyway.

There was nothing about his behavior that gave Andrew any reason to suspect he should watch his back around him, so he couldn't understand why he felt on edge whenever he got close.

 _Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to have a few drinks together_ , he considered. Maybe he would have managed to lower his guard around him.

A panicked voice screamed from the back of his mind that this was the absolute last thing he should have been aiming for. He brushed it off. He was just paranoid and stressed and Alphonse was a sudden disruption in his routine, so his stupidly over-anxious brain must have latched onto that and labeled him as a threat. That had to be the case, he concluded.

“Alright, but you stop drinking when _I_ stop”, he warned Derrick, who looked at him like he just threatened to kick him. “And you can start with _one_ beer when we arrive there. Deal?”

“Yes sir!” Alphonse replied in Derrick's place, saluting him, and the other quickly mimicked him.

Andrew snorted, shaking his head. “Idiots”, he said with a small smile. “Come on now, last one to get in the car pays the first round!”

 

 

“Cheers!”

“Cheer- _oh fuck!_ ”. Andrew covered his mouth in shock as a dark orange stain blossomed on the other man's sleeve.

“It's alright, this shirt has seen worse, I assure you”, Alphonse was quick to say, shrugging. “So, what is this, round number five?”

“I'm... not sure”, Andrew replied, carefully bringing the glass to his lips to avoid spilling any more of his drink as he sipped on it. “I've had....two martini... and one beer... and... that other thing, the one Derrick left”. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking around to locate the other. “Hey... where did he go?”

There was no trace of his colleague as far as he could see. Considering the fact that the bar wasn't all that big and Derrick's red hair would have stood out among the crowd even in that dim light, there was no chance he wouldn't have seen him if he was there.

“Probably to the bathroom. Do you want to look for him?”

Andrew sighed, placing down the half-empty glass and rubbing his face with his hands. “I dunno”, he said with a groan. “Always running off... like a kid”.

Alphonse laughed at his remark. “Seems like he makes you worry a lot”.

“All the time!”, Andrew replied, his hand hitting the wooden counter with a loud bang. A few of the other patrons turned to look at him but he ignored them. “Fucker didn't even know how to tie his tie. I had to show him”. He shook his head. “What was his father thinking? It's like he never bothered to teach him... any sort of thing like this”. He grabbed his glass and emptied it, placing it next to the other ones. “I don't know what's up with that. He never talks, of him. I don't know if they're speaking to each other at all.”

“Must be rough for him. It's a good thing he can count on you”. Alphonse placed his hand on Andrew's shoulder, rubbing it gently. “You don't have to be his father, though. I think he would prefer if you were his friend.”

“I don't really have friends”, Andrew blurted out. “I just... never really bond with people. They're too complicated”.

“You do have a wife”, the other noted, to which he smiled.

“She's so stubborn. She's the one who asked me out, you know. I couldn't... I always thought she was out of my league. She's so smart and talented, and she's always been so beautiful. I couldn't even speak to her.”, he explained. “I thought it was just a prank. The prettiest girl in school, going out with the dork who's always eating alone? No way.”

“You don't look like much of a dork to me. Were you one of those late bloomers?”. Alphonse tilted his head, brushing some brown strands of hair away from his.

Andrew felt his face heat up at that brief contact. For a split second he had a flash of the dream he'd been trying to forget and felt the sudden need for another drink, which he indulged in right away.

“I guess I polished up”, he finally replied, taking hold of the glass as soon as it was presented to him. “I never thought much about what I looked, but Angela taught me a few things about... taking care of my image I guess. How to pair up clothes and all that”. He let out a short snicker. “She still picks out my clothes for me”.

“She does?”. Alphonse laughed too. “Everyday?”.

“Not all days. Mostly when we go somewhere. But sometimes for work too, if she doesn't like what I'm wearing”. He looked down at himself. “This one, I picked myself”.

“Looks good to me”, Alphonse noted, eyeing him up and down in a way that made him heat up more than the alcohol he hurried to gulp down. “And what about your son?”

“Valentine?”. Andrew furrowed his brows again, confused.

“Does he take after you?”.

“Oh, no no! He's always going out with his friends, or inviting them over”, he was quick to reply. “He probably sees them more than he sees me”.

“It's gotta be hard to work full time when you've got kids”, the other noted, giving him a sympathetic look.

“He's not much of a kid now, I mean he's taller than me”. Andrew paused for a second, lost in thought. “That picture I have with him is pretty old. He's seventeen now... well, in a few months he will be.”

“Does he also make you worry?”

Andrew considered the question for a few seconds before answering. “Sometimes. He can be a bit reckless, I think. Not as much as Derrick”. He looked around again, but the man was nowhere to be seen. “...he's not back yet”.

“He's no kid either”, Alphonse noted, taking the by then empty glass away from his hand. Andrew noticed in that moment that he had spilled most of the cocktail on his own pants.

_Shit. Angela's gonna kill me._

“Maybe we should get going”, he suggested, getting up to look for their missing coworker - or at least attempting to, since he stumbled on his own feet as soon as his ass left the bar stool. Alphonse was quick to hold on to his arm before he could hit his head.

“Easy now. Let's pay up first, then we're gonna look for Derrick, ok?”. The man helped him up again and made him place his arm around his shoulders for support. “Please tell me if you need to throw up”.

“I'm fine, really”, Andrew mumbled, leaning against him and letting him carry him up to the register. He was feeling dizzy and had trouble walking straight, but he didn't feel sick. In fact, he felt pretty great. “Could you get... the wallet, it's in my pocket”.

“Don't worry about it. You can pay me back next week”, Alphonse reassured him, shushing his protests. Andrew wanted to argue but was in no state to formulate any valid objection. In the end he just rested his head on the man's shoulder and barely listened to his exchange with the cashier, grinning at her when she asked if he was all right.

“T'sall great”, he mumbled.

He followed the taller man with some difficulty as he lead him around the bar, still holding onto him as if he wasn't sure he wouldn't fall down otherwise. “Seen him yet?”.

“Maybe he went out on his own. Tell you what, why don't we go get some fresh air and try giving him a call?”, the other proposed, walking him towards the door as soon as he saw him nod in response.

_Fuck I'm so drunk._

He could barely hold it together enough to speak in a way that he hoped would be understandable. His initial hype was starting to wane, substituted by a growing feeling of guilt. He never had gotten so wasted before but they'd all have been in such a great mood that he hadn't noticed the glasses stacking up, and it had gotten easier and easier for Derrick to encourage him to get “just one more round”.

_I'm so fucking stupid! What was I even thinking? I should have known he'd get himself in trouble if I wasn't there to keep an eye on him._

He couldn't help but keep tormenting himself thinking of what could have happened to the man. He could have gotten into a fight. He could have gotten mugged. He could have staggered out into the street and got run over by a car. He could...

“Andrew?”.

Alphonse's voice brought him back to reality. He hadn't even realized they had gotten outside already.

“He's not here”, he said, his voice rising in panic. “Where'd he go? DERRICK? DERRICK!?”.

“Ssh! You can't shout like that. Let's sit down for a second”.

The other man guided him towards the short staircase at the entrance of some kind of nearby shop, helped him sit down on it before doing the same. “I'm gonna call him now. I'm sure he's just fine”.

“T's my fault”, Andrew mumbled out in a miserable tone as he started sulking. “I shouldn't...lost him...I'm...”.

“You're not his father, Andrew”, Alphonse interrupted him, forcing him to raise his head to look straight into his eyes. “Listen, I'm sure nothing happened, but if it did, it's no one's fault but his own. He's a grown ass man. It's not your responsibility to keep him out of trouble. Understood?”.

Andrew felt like crying, but he didn't want to look even more pathetic in front of the other. He looked away as soon as that hand released his grip on his chin, listening intently as he saw him compose a number on his phone to try and call the missing man.

“Alright, it's ringing”, the other said, and he could hear it too. One rings, two rings, then three... he lost count of them after the sixth. “He's not picking up...”

“Shit!”. Andrew's hands flew up to his face, covering himself with them before pushing them through his own hair. He started to rock himself back and forth, feeling his blood run cold.

“I'll try again in a few minutes. He might not have heard it.”, Alphonse kept trying to reassure him. He pulled his hands away from his face before pulling him into an embrace, gently stroking his back. “It's ok, Andrew. Even if he doesn't answer, I'm sure it's not the first time he had to get back on his own. He doesn't live that far, he might have walked home and forgot to tell us.”

“I'm sostupid,” he drawled in response, his breath hitching as he fought harder against the urge to cry. “I shouldhave...hic...should have...ngh...more careful...”. His vision fogged up and he felt a pang of humiliation mix in with the guilt as warm tears started flowing down his cheeks. “F-fuck!”

Alphonse didn't say anything, but he tightened his hold and let him push his face against his own shoulder, still stroking his back as Andrew started sobbing into his jacket. He didn't know how long he'd been laying there weeping like a child, but it felt so comforting he never wanted to move.

The sudden sound of glass shattered near them made him jump up and nearly fall off from the stairs.

“HEY FAGGOTS!”.

The scream came from a group of men, who from the looks of it were as drunk as him if not more. They jeered at them but ran off as soon as Alphonse got up and took a step in their directions, scrambling in panic before he could go after them.

“Tsk. Assholes”. Alphonse sneered at them, shaking his head.

Andrew felt his face flush and wasn't able to look at him in the eyes anymore, in fact he didn't even dare to look in his general direction. He hadn't realized how their previous display of emotions must have looked like until then.

“Come on, let's go get you home”, the man said, helping him up again and walking him in the direction of his car.

Neither of them spoke until they got there, at which point the other asked him for the keys to open up the door and make him accommodate on the passenger seat.

Andrew rested his back against it, lifting his legs when the man pushed them in. He held his breath when he saw him lean down close to put his seatbelt on, the man's black hair brushing against his nose. He could feel his heart beat like a drum, his body heating up despite the cold night air all around them.

For a few moments, his previous worries about Derrick were forgotten. All he could think about was the touch of those hands on his body as the other made sure his seatbelt was fastened,.

He finally breathed in again as soon as Alphonse moved away, hoping he hadn't noticed anything. He caught a faint whiff of his scent before the door closed. It was the same sickly-sweet smell of his cigarette from the other night.

He wanted to ask him to call Derrick again, to make sure they wouldn't be leaving him behind, but his thoughts were all jumbled up and his mouth didn't seem to want to form words.

His head fell down on his chest as the engine started running, the familiar rumble of the motor lulling him to sleep in a matter of seconds.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen [this initiative](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) and I think it's really cool!
> 
> So , this story is now part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I will reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to (due to shyness or any other reason), please add "hush" somewhere at the beginning of the comment or as a signature.


	5. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the plot thickens... 
> 
> And maybe something else, too ;)

 

There was a pressure on his thigh. Something warm was resting on it, like a small creature.

Andrew instinctively moved his hand to swat it away, but his fingers felt smooth skin instead of fur, and it was like it was connected to...

His head shot up and his eyes snapped open. Alphonse's hand was on his thigh. It squeezed down slightly at his reaction.

“Good morning”, the man said with a smirk, without taking his eyes off the road. 

Andrew looked outside with a grimace. He still felt rather groggy and his movements were slow and clumsy, but he could at least talk.

“Ugh, what are... where are we?”. 

“I took a small detour. Figured you'd want to sober up a little before getting home”, Alphonse replied. His hand started moving on Andrew's thigh, sliding up towards his crotch, and a sudden mixture of emotions exploded in the drunk man's heart.

“What are you... wait!”, he protested, trying to push that hand off himself with his own, but it was like trying to push off a boulder. He gasped in shock as it finally slipped between his thighs, stopping on his groin, where he started to grope him. “N-no, wait!”.

“What's wrong?”, Alphonse asked, squeezing down on him until he doubled over in pain and releasing his grasp only to turn on the radio. With the press of a few buttons the notes of an horribly familiar song filled the air.

_\- ...'ll never know dear, how much I love you... -_

“Let me... _unh!_ ”. 

Andrew didn't have time to finish his sentence before that hand was on him again, fumbling with his zipper, belt and buttons until the white of his underwear peeked from the front of his pants. Without further ado those fingers sneaked in and touched him through the fabric, stroking and groping him until his cock started to swell up.

_\- ...I'll always love you and make you happy, if you will only say the same... -_

Andrew closed his eyes, shaking his head as if that could make it all disappear. He still could feel that pressure, that warmth, that song, and it all was only adding to his panic. He wished he could have willed himself to stay unaffected by those attentions but his body felt like it was on fire. He had no control over it.

He still idly tried to push him off, closing his hand around the other's wrist and trying to drag it away; this only seemed to prompt Alphonse to intensify his efforts, until Andrew's entire body was shaking from both pleasure and anger.

_\- ...y_ _ou'll regret it all some day_ _... -_

“Why are you doing this?!”, he cried out, opening his eyes again to look at him in a mixture of confusion and fear. 

The neon lights of a nearby cinema painted the man's face with red and blue hues, making his features stand out more than usual. Only his eyes were not reflecting the light. Andrew took note of that fact with growing horror. They looked like dark pits, leading into nothingness.

A quote from something he remembered reading for school brushed his mind. Something about staring into an abyss too long and how that abyss would eventually stare back at you. That was exactly how he was feeling.

Then Alphonse smiled at him and shrugged.

“I'm taking a risk, I guess”. 

The man's fingers slipped underneath the fabric, pushing it down and tugging on the man's rock hard erection until it sprang free, prompting Andrew to cover up his face in shame.

_\- ..._ _sunshine, my only sunshine_ _... -_

“Please don't do this”, he whispered. He started shaking even more as his plea was ignored, the other man's hand wrapping around his sensitive flesh and stroking it eagerly. It was becoming more and more difficult for him to control his voice, to hold back the sounds that threatened to escape from the back of his throat as the pleasure seemed to assault his whole body, overpowering his senses.

_-...you make me happy when skies are gray...-_

“I'm barely touching you, and you're already crying”, Alphonse noted, his tone low and dangerous. “What are you going to do when things get serious?”

His eyes were on him again, cold and unwavering. Andrew couldn't bear the weight of that accursed gaze.

_\- ...you'll never know dear, how much I love you... -_

“I don't understand!”, he cried, pushing his palms against his eyelids until he saw sparks. “Please, I'm married, I can't!”

_\- ...please don't take... -_

“Yet your body doesn't seem to care, now, does it?”, came Alphonse's reply, followed by a small chuckle.

_\- ...my sunshine away... -_

That hand moved faster and faster, the obscene sound filling the car as the music waned, mixing together with Andrew's frantic breath and his moans. His whole body kept twitching with every stroke, his hips jolting upwards whenever those fingers touched a particularly sensitive spot. When he felt them tracing the exposed crown around his glans he couldn't hold back a strangled cry, hating himself for not being able to fight back or resist it.

He didn't know what it was about that man, but he hadn't been able to forget that first dream. Ever since then, the few times he had any time or energy to rub one out after work it had been while thinking of him. As much as he didn't want to admit it, even then a part of him was more than eager to respond to his touch.

“Stop covering yourself, what are you hiding for?”. Alphonse grabbed his wrists with his other hand and forced them off of his face. Andrew opened his eyes, looking at him in fear as a horrible realization struck him. 

“Alphonse, the car!”, he yelled, glancing towards the now unattended steering wheel, but the other grasped onto his hair and pulled him in closer.

“Shut up”, he hissed, before smashing his mouth on Andrew's harshly enough to draw blood.

The rumbling of the engine grew louder and louder, like the roar of an angry lion. Andrew screamed in the kiss, the adrenaline rush bringing him closer and closer to his peak. He was right on the verge of orgasm, his heart thumping so loudly he felt like it was going to explode in his chest, his hard length pulsating in Alphonse's hand, when he felt the crash...

  
  


Andrew jolted up with a scream, his breathing frantic and his whole body drenched in sweat.

He blinked a few times, looking around in a panicked frenzy. He was still in the car, the sky outside was getting light and Alphonse was sitting next to him and looking at him with concern. The window on his side was rolled down and one of his hands was resting on its frame, holding a half-smoked cigarette.

“Are you alright?”, he asked, taking a drag from his cigarette and turning his head to puff it out in the opposite direction. Still, the smell lingered around him, and Andrew held his breath for a few seconds.

He could feel the sweat dripping from his hair down to his neck. The collar of his shirt was drenched in it. Worst of all, he could feel something damp underneath his pants that most definitely  _wasn't_ sweat. He really hoped Alphonse hadn't noticed it.

“I'm... I'm sorry. I must have had... some weird dream”, he replied, looking anywhere but at the other man's face. He was sure his own had to be bright red at the moment.

“You were tossing around and whining in your sleep. I tried to wake you up but you almost punched me”, Alphonse said – Andrew could still _feel_ him staring at him and this time he was sure he wasn't imagining it. “Must have been one hell of a nightmare”.

_You have no idea,_ Andrew thought, pushing his hands against his face and groaning. Why did it have to happen again, and worst of all, when the other was  _right there_ ? He wanted to dig a hole into the ground and bury himself in there to escape the embarrassment. 

“Derrick called back earlier. He's alright, he fell asleep by the dumpsters outside the bar and didn't hear the phone. He said he'd be walking home”, the other said. “He also wanted to know if you were mad, but you were asleep so I told him you'd call him later”.

Andrew sighed in relief. In his whirlwind of emotion he had almost forgotten about Derrick, but now he was glad to know he was ok. He was still going to chew him out, but at least now he wouldn't have to worry all morning about whether he'd be seeing his name in the news next to  _TRAGIC ACCIDENT_ or  _VIOLENT MURDER_ or some other equally alarming headline.

“I'm sorry you had to see me like that,” he said, feeling even more humiliated at the memory of how he'd all but thrown himself at him while crying like a baby. 

“Don't worry about it”, Alphonse replied, patting him on the back. “You're a good man, Andrew”

Andrew didn't know what was worse, if the sudden heat that overcame him at that touch or the way that praise released the knot in his stomach, making him feel stupidly elated. All he knew was that he didn't know how to face the other again after all that.

“Let's get you home now. The missus might be wondering if we've been holding you hostage by now”, Alphonse joked, tossing out the butt of his cigarette and turning the keys to start the car again. The radio came back to life playing the notes of an unfamiliar tune, much to Andrew's relief.

_Thank God it's not that song again._

  
  


They arrived at his place in a few minutes.

Neither of them said another word while on the way there. Andrew felt too awkward to say anything and maybe Alphonse perceived his uneasiness, because he did not even attempt to make small talk.

“Here we are”, he curtly announced once he was parked in front of his house. 

“Thank you, Alphonse”. 

The man smirked, tilting his head towards him “You can call me Al, you know”.

Andrew felt his face heat up again, cursing himself.

_Goddammit, get a grip already._

“Then... thank you, Al”.

Andrew stepped out of the car and walked away from it with unusual haste, feeling as if it was dangerous to wait around for too long. He didn't trust the way his voice trembled over that nickname, nor the heat that spread from his face to his entire body.

How did he ever think of Alphonse's face as bland was beyond him. He was not strikingly handsome or anything but there was something in the curve of his jaw, in the way his dark brown hair framed his forehead, in the small wrinkle at the corner of his mouth as his smirk widened...

He picked up his pace, until he was all but running from him.

He had almost gotten to the door when he heard his voice again, Alphonse's footsteps echoing in the empty road as he ran after him, making his heart race.

_Please don't..._

“Andrew, wait!”, Alphonse called out, running up to him and waiting a few seconds to catch his breath, stretching out his hand. “You forgot your keys”.

“Oh... thanks”, he mumbled, feeling a bit stupid. The man's hand brushed his as he gave them back to him, and he tried not too think of how red his face must have been in that moment.

_Get a damn grip! You're acting like a teenager with a crush,_ he told himself, gulping loudly and turning around to open the door, fumbling with his keys to get them in the lock. He hoped the other would merely think he was still drunk, that he might not notice the way he was shaking from being so close to him. 

_Why won't the damn keys get in already?!_

The longer he stayed there the harder it was to concentrate on anything but the gaze that, he was sure of it, was piercing him from his back. The sooner he got away from it the sooner his heart would stop pounding.

He held back a sigh of relief as he managed to slip the keys in and open the lock.

_Finally. I was going to get a fucking panic attack._

He had just started pushing when the man's hand closed on his wrist, the door ever so slightly ajar. Andrew looked up in confusion and fear as the other leaned in closer, cornering him by the entrance.

“...Alphonse?”, he whispered, feeling the other's breath against his face. It smelled sweet - _too_ sweet, almost like a blooming flower left in water for too long. 

A small voice inside him urged to push him away, but his eyes were locked in the other's black ones and he felt like a deer in headlights. He was only partially aware of the hand slipping into his hair, holding his head in place, before those lips closed on his own in a hungry kiss.

_Oh fuck._

It was like falling underwater, like being submerged by the waves and slipping deeper and deeper into the ocean. He was drowning in the feeling that was exploding in his chest, overpowering him with such intensity that he thought he would scream.

Instead he reacted without thinking, pushing his tongue in and kissing him back fiercely, driven purely by instinct and emotion. His arms were wrapped around Alphonse's neck, holding onto him as if he was afraid he would sink if he lost his grip.

Alphonse pushed him hard against the door frame, his hand absorbing the impact from behind Andrew's head. The shorter man gasped in the kiss, the pressure of that body against his own annihilating any coherent thought that could have managed to resurface to his mind. His head was filled with nothing but the other man's warmth, smell, taste, and the wet sounds of their kiss.

It was Alphonse that eventually pulled back first, panting heavily and still looking at him like a hungry beast, his lips slightly wet with their saliva.

“Sorry”, he breathed out, his grip slowly loosening as he took a step backwards, his hands still lingering for a few seconds on Andrew's body.

Andrew, on the other hand, seemed to have suddenly come to his senses. He jumped backwards, hitting his back against the now-open door and almost slipping on the floor. He looked at the man in front of him in disbelief, as if his mind refused to accept what just had happened between them.

He didn't wait for Alphonse to explain himself, in fact he didn't wait for him to say anything at all. He rushed inside and slammed the door shut, resting his arms and his forehead against the cold wood and closing his eyes, sighing in relief. His body still felt so warm, almost feverish, and his heart was hammering in his ears.

_What have I done?_

He couldn't believe it. It couldn't be real.

Yet he had the most dreadful feeling that, this time, he wouldn't be waking up only to find out it was all just a dream.

He licked his lips, shuddering a bit at the taste. He could still recognize the lingering aftertaste of the man's cigarette in his mouth and the metallic hint of blood where his lip was bruised – he must have gotten so carried away that he hadn't noticed the other biting him.

“You might want to be quieter”, a sudden voice interrupted his musings, making him freeze on the spot.

He turned around and, to his horror, he could see Valentine standing just at the base of the staircase, looking at him with a mixture of amusement and astonishment.

“Ah! I... that was....”, he stammered, desperately trying to think of a way to dig himself out of that hole.

Valentine didn't say anything. Instead, he grinned at him and placed his index against his own lips, turning around to sneak upstairs.

Andrew didn't even know how to process all that.

His mind was in such a havoc that he didn't even notice that the light in the living room was still turned on until he walked right past it. He stopped in his tracks, making his way in and finding his wife Angela curled up on the sofa. Her coal-stained fingers were still holding onto a stick of charcoal.

He noticed the painting was fully finished by then, and wondered if she had once again spent the whole day working on it. Come to think of it, Valentine did look like he had just gotten back home, and she knew Andrew wouldn't be back till late since he had texted her as soon as his coworkers had managed to convince him.

Not wanting her to mess up their furniture in her sleep, he leaned in and gently took the charcoal out of her hands, placing it on the short table in front of her.

It was then that he noticed the sketches.

His mind froze and he completely blanked out for a moment, feeling his blood run cold.

With shaky hands, he picked up one of the papers, his eyes transfixed by the sketched portrait of an all-too-familiar face.

_How could she...? No, it's impossible!_

She had never even  _met_ him. Hell, she hadn't even seen  _pictures_ of him, there was no way she could know what he looked like.

And yet, there was no mistaking the intensity of those incredibly vivid black eyes.

Even on paper, he felt like they were staring right back at him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	6. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if I mentioned it before, but if you want to you can find me on tumblr too under the same name ([tommykaine](http://tommykaine.tumblr.com))

 

The following days passed in a weird daze, in which the longest conversation he had with his newest coworker was to ask him to pass him a pen.

Andrew didn't know how to feel about that night. It had been such a roller-coaster of emotions that it still barely felt real to him.

Yet he could tell he hadn't dreamed  _all_ of it by the weird, longing glances the other man kept throwing at him, not daring to say a word to him unless to respond to some question.

Even Derrick had noticed that something wasn't right.

“Did I do, uhm, something stupid that night?”, he asked him once, when Alphonse wasn't around to hear.

“Besides getting so drunk you fell asleep beside a dumpster?”, Andrew replied, to which the other huffed.

“You know what I mean”, he insisted, lowering his voice. “It's just, he barely even seems to listen to me when I talk. It's like his mind is always somewhere else”.

“Maybe he just figured out how much you sound like a broken record”, Andrew suggested, regretting the mean edge to his words as soon as Derrick fell silent on him and muttered something about him being an ass.

“Look, it's not you”, he eventually said, leaning towards him as the other pretended to be too immersed in his work to pay attention to him. “You didn't do anything. If anything, it was me”.

Derrick seemed to relax a little, but before he could ask what he meant by that Alphonse had gotten back from his break and silence fell on them again.

It was now clear that, whatever had been affecting him in the past weeks, he hadn't been the only one to perceive it. For whatever reason the other was probably as weirdly attracted to Andrew as he was to him. He might have just been better at hiding it, until the very moment in which neither of them had been able to hold back any longer.

Andrew didn't know what to do with that newfound knowledge.

He knew he couldn't pursue it. For one, he still very much loved his wife and was as attracted to her as he ever was. They still had sex as often as they could, which given his workload and the fact that their son was still living under their roof, was admittedly not all that often. Yet he still craved for it every time he saw her slip into the shower in the morning, not caring at all that he was still brushing his teeth and grooming himself for far too long just to make sure to catch a glimpse of her body once she would step out again. He still felt the same urge every time she bent over to pick something, smirking at him whenever she happened to catch him staring.

Secondly, they were coworkers, with him being his senior. It was practically a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen. Even without taking that into account, mixing work and sex was never a good idea – unless sex _was_ someone's work in the first place, he guessed. But that was besides the point. They were there to get work done, not sneak out to get some like a pair of horny teenagers. It just wasn't something he could ever be comfortable with even if he hadn't been married.

Thirdly, they were  _both guys_ . Andrew wasn't homophobic, it wasn't a matter of disgust, it was just... he never had looked at another man in that way. He couldn't imagine himself in that situation. Well, to tell the truth he  _could_ , and far too easily thanks to his ridiculously vivid dreams, but  _consciously_ ? He wouldn't even know where to begin. 

He knew how gay sex worked in  _theory_ of course, who didn't these days? The internet had been a thing pretty much anyone could have access to for over a decade. Andrew had seen his share of weird videos, some featuring things one would not even imagine the human body was capable of doing.

Still, seeing a man shove a whole screwdriver up his penis never gave him any inkling of desire of actually trying that out, and the same was true for regular, perfectly vanilla butt-fucking of the male-on-male variety. He had no intention of going anywhere near another man's ass, no matter how much of an objectively aesthetically pleasing one it might be.

Last but not least, there was also the whole matter of those surreal occurrences that had been driving him crazy since he had first met the guy.

How his mind would conjure the man's image in the most random moments, only for it to disappear in the blink of an eye as soon as he tried to focus on it. How his wife had no idea of who the man in her drawings was, except that she'd gotten the weirdest feeling of deja-vu once he'd actually showed her Alphonse's pictures. Still, she had laughed it off and chalked it up to him having such a generic face that it wouldn't be that hard to find someone else who looked like that. How the other had just known his name the first time without even having ever met him or anyone who might know him, especially if he really had just moved there like he had claimed to.

Everything about the situation was the very epitome of a Bad Idea with a capital B and I. He just had to pretend it never happened, he concluded, and move on with his life as if nothing had changed.

_Easier said than done_ , he told himself grimly. 

The truth was he couldn't stop getting hard just from thinking about that kiss again, and he couldn't wash that flavor out of his mind no matter how much he tried.

Every time the other man was in his near proximity that was all he could think about anymore, which didn't help him get his work done any sooner.

Thankfully Alphonse still proved himself to be as valuable to his team as he first had been, managing even to convince Derrick to work with more enthusiasm and dedication than ever. Meanwhile, the day of the dreaded business dinner was getting closer and closer, making Andrew wish he would catch a virulent illness just a few days before so that he would have an excuse not to attend.

It wasn't just that he was not looking forward to enduring the leering gazes of his boss on his wife's ass while resisting the urge to punch him in the face. He hated that whole mix of forced socialization and affable lies, of pretending he wouldn't much rather be at home to watch a movie with his wife and son instead of having to act like he cared about people he could barely remember the name of since they weren't even in the same office.

That was seemingly the one thing in which Derrick exceeded him without effort. He might have been a loud chatterbox but he was a  _likable_ loud chatterbox. Maybe that was why he hadn't just written him off as an annoying idiot since the first time he had met him – albeit the thought had brushed his mind more than a few times. There was just something so genuine about him, it was like he didn't even have to force himself to be nice even to the vilest of people. It simply came natural to him.

Maybe that was why _he_ tolerated Andrew, no matter how abrasive he was to him or how much he brushed off his attempts of getting to know him in a way that would go beyond acquaintanceship levels. 

  
  


  
  


“Man, look at this place!”, Derrick whispered, looking around in awe. “I can't believe we even get to sit down around the same people that pay to be here. I should have worn my good suit”.

“You look fine, Derry”, Angela told him, brushing his shoulder with her hand in an encouraging gesture.

“T-thanks, Angie”, Derrick stammered, turning slightly red. “You look really ho...” - he stopped himself as soon as Andrew glared at him - “ _Honestly beautiful!_ What a, uhm, delightful shade of blue!”, he quickly added, laughing nervously.

“Thank you! Andrew picked it out for me”, she proudly announced, locking her arm around her husband's.

Andrew smiled at her words. As he'd told Alphonse, he had never been interested in fashion and wouldn't know how to pair up clothes and accessories if his life depended on it. Yet he still could tell she was stunning in that cocktail dress. Not to mention it had a much more conservative neckline than the red one which had “mysteriously” gone missing just the other week.

Of course that didn't stop Stevenson from ogling at her. Andrew had to keep himself from growling at him like a territorial dog every time his boss found some excuse to get close to Angela. He hated seeing that smug smirk on his face, as if he was undressing her with his eyes.

_Fucking creep._

“Why don't you go get the lady a drink, Andrew?”, the older man suggested at some point, in a tone that made it clear enough that it wasn't a suggestion at all. 

Swearing under his breath, Andrew had rushed to the refreshments table as quickly as he could without tripping on anyone's feet or pushing them out of his way. As soon as he made his way back to the previous spot, however, neither of the two was anywhere to be seen.

“Fuck! That slimy bastard!”, he couldn't hold back from spitting out. He downed the wine from his glass in a single gulp, in the hope it would calm his nerves enough to not run after his boss and get into a fist-fight with him.

“Are you starting with shots already? The night is still young”, someone behind him joked, almost making him choke.

“A-Alphonse”, he coughed out, hitting his chest with his palm and clearing his throat. “Have you seen Angela? She was here with Mr. Stevenson just a second ago”

“I think they might have gone inside”, the other replied, grasping onto his arm as soon as Andrew tried to dart towards the entrance of the restaurant. “Wait! What are you planning?”

“Let me go! I don't want to leave her alone with that pervert”, Andrew snapped back, trying to wrench his arm free. “I swear to God if he even thinks of trying a move on her I'll -”

“Andrew, relax. I'm sure not even him would be careless enough to hit on someone's wife here where anyone could see him”, Alphonse said, pulling him back until he was close enough to whisper into his ear. “Besides, looking the way she does, I get the feeling she already knows well enough how to dump an annoying suitor by now”.

Andrew balled up his hands into fists, tensing up at the thought of that old man shamelessly flirting with his wife right under his nose and yet too far to catch him in the act. Still, he knew Alphonse was right. He couldn't make a scandal. He could be fired if he humiliated Stevenson in front of their entire work-team and associates, not to mention the higher-ups. As jealous as he was in that moment, he still was rational enough to know he couldn't afford to do that.

With a small sigh he forced himself to relax, until Alphonse seemed convinced enough that he wouldn't run off again to let his arm go.

“Where's Derrick?”, Andrew asked him, looking around to check that the other hadn't gotten in some kind of trouble. He knew Derrick was not stupid enough to get wasted in such a situation, but as they were in a place with unlimited free drink at their disposal he wasn't sure he could completely trust him not to get carried away if his impulsive streak were to get the best of him.

“Right over there, by the fountain”. Alphonse gestured towards it with the same hand that was still holding a half-filled glass of red wine. “I wouldn't disturb him though, I think he'd rather not have us around in this particular occasion”.

Andrew spotted him easily once he knew where to look, immediately realizing what Alphonse meant once he saw the girl who seemed to be laughing in response to something that Derrick said. Even at that distance he could tell that she was quite attractive, as well as just young enough that he was too uncomfortable to dwell on that train of thoughts.

“He's got good eye, I've got to admit it”, he commented, smirking at his coworker. “If I wasn't married or at least ten years older than her... I'd probably sit in a corner and not be able to say a word to her”, he added with a small laugh, with Alphonse joining in.

“She's way out of his league”, the man said, sounding quite impressed. “Are you sure he shouldn't be in marketing? Looks like he'd have a talent for that”.

Andrew shook his head. “He's a really bad liar. He could sell you anything if he believed in it enough, even the dirt under your own shoes, but he couldn't bullshit his way around something he knows to be worthless or isn't convinced about if his life depended on it”.

“Then he must really believe in himself, because that sure looks like it's working”, Alphonse noted, sipping his wine as they both spied on the scene until his glass was empty. “Shall we go get refills?”

Andrew realized in that moment that that had been the longest conversation he had had with him in a long while.

_At least since-_

“I'd sure love another drink!”, he quickly said, shoving that budding thought under the rug before it could even be formulated in its entirety.

Still, now he was sure he couldn't relax again around him like he had done just a moment ago. He hoped some more alcohol would do the trick, but a part of him warned against him getting  _too_ comfortable around him. The last thing he wanted was to end up doing something... highly inconvenient. Especially there where anyone could have seen him, including his wife.

“How's it going at home?”, Alphonse asked, grabbing two glasses of wine and offering one up to Andrew. “I imagine you've been enjoying your free time”.

“Oh it's pretty much the usual”, he replied, bringing the red liquid up to his lips and taking his time tasting it. Everything about that place felt so ostentatiously rich, and the same was true for that wine. Its fragrant taste lingered around in his mouth.

_Like the taste of his cigarettes._

He winced. God, why couldn't he stop thinking about that?

“Valentine's still not talking to me much, but at least now I get to see him most days.”

He hadn't told his mother.

Andrew was not expecting him to but he was still relieved. He didn't know what his son thought of him now and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to find out.

Nothing really had changed in the way the boy had been acting towards him. They just hadn't been all that close in a long time. Then again, they were both very different from each other, so maybe it was to be expected. His son was more of a social butterfly, like his mother, but Andrew got the feeling that unlike her he wouldn't really bother interacting with someone like him if they weren't related.

“Do you mind if we sit down for a bit?”, Alphonse asked, walking towards a small bank just a few steps from there.

Andrew just shrugged and followed him, awkwardly sitting down next to him. There was really not enough space to keep distance so he was all-too-aware of the warmth of other man's thigh against his own, especially in the cold air of the night.

The man took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, taking one out for himself before waving the packet towards him.

_I don't smoke,_ he thought. He picked one anyway, waiting for him to light it up before drawing air through it.

He had expected to cough like he did the one time he had tried smoking as a teen, but he didn't. It went straight to his lungs, the all-too-familiar smell invading his nostrils as he blew it out.

It didn't even taste like tobacco. It was far sweeter and flavorful, like the wine they were both drinking. It made him feel oddly euphoric, which he suspected was mostly due to how much it reminded him of their kiss.

_If Angela were to see me, she'd kill me._

“What about Angela?”

For a second Andrew thought the other had been reading his thoughts, before realizing what he had meant by that question.

“Oh, she's the busy one now. She's been working on those book covers. You know that new fantasy series from that guy... Emory something. First one's been selling like hot cakes, so they expect the next ones will do just as well. She's really excited about it”, he told him. He had rarely seen her so passionate about her work before, and that was saying a lot given how much she enjoyed it.

“And you're not?”, Alphonse asked, a puff of smoke blowing directly against Andrew's face as he spoke.

“I'm... I think it's great”, he quickly answered. “I'm just not used to it, that's all. Guess I'm just not used to things not being the same. I'm a man of routine”.

That was what he told himself, at least.

Alphonse sighed. “It's been making things weird, hasn't it”

Andrew didn't respond. He looked down at his own shoes, sipping on his wine so that he would have an excuse not to speak for a while.

“I didn't mean to”, the other continued. “It just sort of came over me. Just a spur of the moment thing.”

“Yeah... it was the same for me too”, Andrew lied, forcing himself to smile. 

Neither of them talked for a while after that, but it was not a quiet silence. It fell heavy around them, like the smoke. It was suffocating him.

“Ah, it looks like dinner's starting”. Alphonse got up first and dumped his cigarette on the ground, stepping on it.

“Finally”. Andrew followed suit, taking one last drag before walking up to the nearest trash can to rid himself of his. “Let's go get Derrick”.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
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> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	7. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey you know that noncon warning up there in the tags? 
> 
> Nothing special about it actually, just kinda felt the need to remind you it's there. 
> 
> For, uhm, reasons.

  


Andrew felt like his head was buzzing. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe the multiple conversations going on all at once around him.

God, how he hated that. All that damn noise.

_I can't wait to get back,_ he thought. His hand looked for Angela's, squeezing it slightly, and she reciprocated.

“ _I know”,_ was what her sympathetic gaze was telling him.

“I'm just going to go outside for a bit”, he told her after a while, once he felt like he was unable to cope with it any longer.

“Do you want me to come?”, she asked, a slight hint of worry in her voice.

_Yes_.

“No... no, it's fine. I'll be right back. I just need some fresh air”, he reassured her with a smile, getting up and excusing himself as he walked out of there as fast as he could.

_Finally, some fucking peace and quiet._

“You really don't like crowds”.

_...or not._

He hadn't seen Alphonse leave the table, but then again he had done his best to ignore him for the rest of the evening after their previous awkward moment.

Suddenly he kinda regretted going out, but it wasn't like he could go back. That would only make it even worse.

“Want another smoke?”

The pack was offered to him again. Andrew hesitated.

“I really shouldn't”, he said, but he still took one.

_Whatever._ Nothing was going well for him that evening.

“I kinda feel like I'm corrupting you now”, Alphonse joked. “You better not get a taste for it”.

“It's kind of too late for that, isn't it”. Andrew moved in closer to reach the flame of the other's lighter.

“I guess so”.

“Angela better not find out about this”, he warned him, looking back to check if she could see him from the window. Thankfully she was sitting on the wrong side of the table for that, but he still worried someone else might see.

Alphonse gave him a thoughtful look, tilting his head.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”.

_I really shouldn't._

The man's hand slipped into his. He didn't even try to pull back.

“Come on, this way”.

He let him lead him around the other side of the building, closer to the service entrance.

He didn't even feel the cold now. Maybe it was the wine. He really hoped it was.

He wasn't surprised when the other didn't release his hold. He felt his thumb brush against his palm, gently tracing the lines on the inside of his hand.

Neither of them said anything, again. They merely stood there, holding hands and smoking in silence, except this time it didn't feel strained. If anything, it was exhilarating.

He hated to admit it, but a part of him never wanted that moment to end.

The moment Alphonse leaned in closer it was like a spell was broken. Andrew withdrew himself against the wall, thinking the other was about to try and kiss him, but the man just wiped something from his shoulder.

“It's starting to rain”.

Andrew looked up and a droplet fell on his face, running down along his cheek like a small tear.

Soon it was followed by another, and yet another one, until finally it started to pour. Alphonse pulled him in as if to shield him with his body, his hand resting on the small of his back. He looked around for a few seconds before he started walking, gently pushing him along.

“We can't go back like this”, Andrew immediately protested, moving away from him, but Alphonse grabbed his arm to hold him back.

“Let's go to my car”, he said. “We can smoke there”.

_I didn't even know you had a car._

But of course he would. How else would he get to work?

Andrew briefly recalled the way the man had disappeared right after driving him back home the first time.

_He probably just lives somewhere close._

Yeah, that had to be it.

They rushed to get there as the rain got even more intense, soaking through their clothes. Alphonse took out his keychain and unlocked the car with the push of a button, opening the back door and pushing Andrew in before following him in there, practically throwing himself on top of him before shutting the door behind them.

“Good Lord, I'm drenched to the skin!”, Andrew complained, shivering from the cold. He could feel his clothes sticking to his body, down to his underwear.

“Same for me”, Alphonse replied, moving to sit more comfortably next to him before taking off his jacket and throwing it towards the front of the car. He then tried to do the same with Andrew's but he quickly scooted back across the seat.

“What are you doing?”, he asked, alarmed. All of a sudden his heart was beating so fast he felt like it would jump right out of his chest.

“You're gonna freeze to death like this. I'm pretty sure Angela will kill both of us if you get a cold”. Alphonse moved in closer to unfasten the buttons on his jacket and Andrew felt a protest rise up to his lips but he silenced it, knowing the man was right.

“I-I can do it myself”, he muttered, looking away, but didn't pull back this time. He knew his shirt was sticking to his body like a second skin, practically transparent, and felt secretly glad that it was almost too dark to see anything in there.

Alphonse nodded, loosening his grasp on the fabric. “I'll turn on the engine, so we can at least heat up”, he said before climbing to the front to put his keys in and start the car. It turned on with a smooth rumble, and Andrew almost rolled his eyes.

_Even his car sounds nice._

It was hardly fair.

“It should only take a moment”, Alphonse assured him, fumbling with some buttons and knobs until the sound of ventilation mixed in with that of the motor. Andrew resumed his efforts once he saw him crawl back next to him, fearing that he might attempt to undress him again. It was embarrassing enough to have to do it in front of him on his own.

Alphonse started doing the same, which prompted him to look away. The rain was still pouring down heavily all around them, dripping on the windows with such intensity that he couldn't even see anything on the outside besides some vague blurry shapes. Hopefully Angela wasn't wondering about where he was by now.

“Just hang them on the front seat, they should at least dry up a bit”, Alphonse told him, placing his own clothes on the driver's seat as orderly as he could.

Soon they were both stripped down to their underwear. Andrew had tried to at least keep his socks on but had gotten rid of them as soon as the other threatened to get them off of him himself. He was curled up on himself like a ball, trying to cover as much of his body as he could, hoping the other wasn't staring at him.

He felt incredibly vulnerable. He'd never been so naked in front of someone else before except Angela or his own parents if one didn't count locker rooms – and even in that case he would usually try to get dressed again as quickly as possible. He didn't like to be seen like that. It made him feel self-conscious and defenseless.

He felt something hit his leg and looked down, finding that Alphonse had tossed him his packet of cigarettes. He was already lighting one up for himself.

“Where do you even get these?”, he asked him, taking one out and waiting for him to light it up. It was weird to speak to him like this but he felt even more uncomfortable in the silence. Maybe chatting with him would put his mind at ease.

“They're imported from my homeland”, Alphonse answered him, the fire from the tip illuminating his smirk.

_Oh. That explains the accent._ The surname too, probably European.

“And that is?”, he inquired, curious, but the other just laughed at him.

“Pretty damn far from here. Not a nice place”, he eventually said. His hand went to brush a strand of hair from Andrew's face, startling him so much that he jumped in his seat. “Damn, you're so jittery. Do I really make you so nervous?”

Andrew snorted.

_Yes, goddamnit!_

“What do you think?”, he asked quietly, almost a whisper. “Last time we were alone things got... weird”.

“Yeah”, Alphonse replied just as softly, placing his hand on the other's knee “I guess that's fair”.

Andrew stiffened under the touch, but didn't pull away.

“I love Angela”, he quickly said, looking away. He felt that hand move up, slowly making its way along the inside of his thigh, and he started to shiver. It didn't feel cold. It should have been, but instead it was blazing hot, or rather that was how his own skin felt underneath his touch.

“Of course you do. Pretty little thing, isn't she?”. Alphonse moved in closer until Andrew felt his breath against his cheek. His smell filled his nostrils, making him feel lightheaded. “Much like you”. That hand stopped right below his groin, fingers digging into his skin.

“I'm not... like that”, Andrew said in a small voice, feeling his throat clench up as the other kissed his neck, making his hair stand on end. “Alphonse... please”.

“You can't stop thinking about it, right?”, the other asked, whispering right against his ear. “It's the same for me”. He licked his earlobe, dragging his tongue on the outline of his ear, and Andrew couldn't hold back a small gasp.

“N-no”, he whimpered, crouching down and trying to make himself small, as if he was hoping he could disappear. Alphonse's hand didn't move from his thigh, and soon the other one reached out for his face, forcing him to turn it around to look at him.

Andrew's eyes widened in fear, locked into the other's black ones. They looked so dark he couldn't see his irises, and so deep he felt like he was being swallowed up alive.

“I want you, Andrew”, Alphonse insisted, his fingers brushing against his lips, pressing against the lower one. “I know you want me too.”

“I can't”, he whined, shaking his head and covering his face with his hands. “Please-”

“Hush,” the man ordered him, grabbing his wrists and pulling his hands away. He moved in closer, crouching down on him like a predator on its prey. Andrew was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering, and he knew it wasn't from the cold. In fact he felt much too warm, as if his entire body was about to catch fire.

“Alphonse n-” he tried to protest, but it was cut short by a forceful kiss. He stiffened again, but the other didn't waste time. His hands were on him again, pushing him down on the seat until he was laying underneath him, frozen in place by his own fear.

_No!_

He wanted to struggle but he couldn't. It was as if all of his strength had left him at once.

He felt the other's hands everywhere, all at once. In his hair, holding down his arms, moving down his chest, spreading his legs, caressing his thighs... it was like a million fingers were all on him at once, crawling all over his body.

He could feel the man's tongue against his, he could taste him like poison, he was drowning in it. He felt his own underwear getting pulled down and pushed off of his body, suddenly he was completely naked before him.

_Please stop,_ he thought, warm tears running down his cheek. He felt the other's tongue lap them up before kissing him again, the salty taste mingling with the sickly-sweet one. Decaying flowers mixed with saltwater.

The man's fingers curled around his hardening cock, dug into his scalp, scraped across his navel and brushed against his nipples. He felt them slip into his mouth as soon as he pulled away from his kiss, caressing his tongue. His fingers tasted like defeat, they tasted like regret and desire at the same time.

He cried out around them as his erection was enveloped by the man's hand; he was stroking it gently but relentlessly. Every touch was setting his body on fire, making him writhe helplessly in search of relief.

_Please, please no,_ he begged over and over again, unsure if the words ever actually left his lips. Either way he didn't think the other could hear him.

His own hands were trapped above his face, his legs spread wide to prevent him from closing them. He felt his own orgasm come in waves, closer and closer to the edge, and his eyes welled up with tears again.

He couldn't, he shouldn't have found any pleasure from that, but the man was playing his body like a well-tuned instrument, he knew just the right spots to stroke and press down on, he knew just the right way to caress him – until Andrew finally arched his back and came, screaming in pleasure.

  


“We should head back”

Andrew didn't reply. He only laid there, staring up at the ceiling.

He wasn't even scared anymore. Instead, he felt completely empty.

Then those hands were on his body again, pulling up his underwear to put it back on him and stroking his hair.

He didn't move. Maybe if he waited long enough, he would have woken up in his bed again.

Then Alphonse leaned down to kiss him again and even that last desperate hope he was clinging onto was shattered.

_What have I done?_

Andrew choked back a sob, staring at him in a mixture of regret and confusion once the man pulled back.

“Why?”, he cried out, but the other didn't answer.

He felt something soft being tossed at him and grabbed onto it. His shirt was almost completely dry.

“Your wife will be wondering where you went if we stay here any longer”, Alphonse noted, putting his own clothes back on.

Andrew felt like crying again. He hadn't meant for this to happen. He didn't know how to face her anymore.

_How could I let this happen to me?_

He dressed up again, not caring if his shirt was all misaligned, if his tie was all wrinkled up and bent in a weird angle.

He let Alphonse help him get dressed back up, straightening his tie and realigning the buttons of his shirt in the correct holes. He didn't move at all, staring in silence at the man in front of him until he felt a warm hand brush his cheek again, wiping away his tears.

He felt a rush of heat as his face reddened, immediately followed by a sudden wave of nausea.

_Disgusting._

“You can't let her see you like this”, Alphonse said, his voice as calm as ever. “You know that, right?”.

Andrew quickly nodded, feeling his stomach tied down in knots. He was right. He never could let her know.

_She wouldn't understand._

“Let's keep this between us”.

Andrew glared at him. He didn't have to tell him. He had no intention of telling that to her, or anyone else for that matter.

“Don't look at me like that. You wanted this as much as I did”, Alphonse whispered, his lips brushing right against his ear.

Andrew shivered at that contact, looking away.

“I asked you to stop”, he murmured. “Why didn't you stop?”

Alphonse didn't respond right away, but didn't avert his gaze.

“The same reason why you didn't run. I just couldn't,” he eventually replied. “We're drawn together, you and I. I know you can feel it too”.

Andrew looked up at him, shivering again.

He wanted to be angry at him. He wanted to hate him for doing that to him.

But he just couldn't.

And that made everything even worse.

“Please, let's pretend this never happened”, he said, hating himself for it. “If Angela ever found out, it would destroy our marriage”.

“Don't worry,”Alphonse smiled at him as he stroked his cheek again. “No one else has to know. Just the two of us. Alright?”.

_No_ , he thought.

There was nothing “alright” with that situation.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Remember kids, smoking is bad. Never accept cigarettes, especially from charismatic foreigners~~
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	8. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkwardness: The Chapter

 

Andrew didn't know how he was going to cope with it.

He knew he would never be able to look at Alphonse with the same eyes again, but most of all he was worried about Angela. She was so perceptive, there was no way she wouldn't notice that something was off.

She seemed to have chalked it up to him having a bad time at the dinner, at least at first. As the time passed and he still was avoiding looking at her for too long, as if scared that she would sense his guilt from his gaze, she seemed to grow more and more concerned until she eventually confronted him about it.

“Andrew, what's going on?”, she asked, unconvinced by his excuses when he tried to first pretend nothing was wrong and then blame his weirdness on being tired.

“It's because of what happened at the dinner, isn't it?”, she insisted, and Andrew froze in place.

“What about the dinner?”, he asked dryly, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

She narrowed her eyes and he felt like ice water was running through his veins. That was the face she made when she knew she had hit the mark.

“You're worried something happened between me and your boss, isn't it?”

Her words caught him off-guard, so much that he was left speechless.

He had all but completely forgotten about it but once she mentioned it the memory came rushing back to him, together with the surge of anger and jealousy he had felt back then.

She sighed, brushing a hand through her hair as she looked at him with a mixture of sadness and frustration.

“I knew you'd be angry about that. He said he just wanted to show me something for a second, and before I knew it he started chatting me up for hours and I didn't know how to excuse myself without seeming rude”, she explained, her tone soft and apologetic. “I didn't mean to disappear like that. I really thought it'd be a matter of minutes”.

“Did he... try anything weird?”, he asked, clenching his fists.

“No, no, in fact he was really polite”, she reassured him. “I mostly got the impression that he was feeling lonely. Like he didn't have no one else to open up to. That's also why I didn't know how to leave, I kinda felt sorry for him.”

“You shouldn't”, Andrew snapped, unable to hold himself back. “He's such a pig. You don't know how he talks about women around the office.”

_Especially you,_ he thought, but managed to keep himself from saying.

She shook her head, her lips spreading in a sardonic smile.

“I know how guys talk about women when we're not around. I'm not that naïve”, she said. “That's why I'm with you and not _them”._ She took his hand in hers, holding it to her chest. “I'm sorry I made you worry, but you really don't have to. I'm your wife. Even if he had tried anything I would have said no, I'd never throw our marriage out of the window like that.”

Andrew felt as if she had punched him in the guts at those words. He got up to pull her into a tight embrace, hiding his face against her shoulder.

“I'm sorry, I know you wouldn't... it's just I'm so scared of losing you”, he whispered, his voice cracking as he teared up a bit. “I don't know what I would do without you”.

Her words had cut deep. He knew she'd never cheat on him. She'd never hurt him like that.

It was more than he could say for himself.

_I'm the worst._

  
  


Andrew had thought Alphonse would start avoiding him again at work the next week, like he had done in the past ones, but he was wrong.

Just like he had asked him to, the other was acting as if nothing ever happened between them. He'd gone back to talking to him and Derrick like usual and there was no trace of desire in his eyes when he looked at him.

Andrew wished he could have been as good at hiding his emotions.

He had tried to tell himself that it was for the best, that it'd never happen again and all he needed to do was pretend it never had in the first place.

_Yeah right. Easier said than done_ .

He kept waking up in the middle of the night, shaken awake by nightmares that he was unable to remember the next morning after falling asleep again. Sometimes, when it was really bad, he'd wake up in the living room or in the bathroom without having any recollection of ever getting there.

At least the hallucinations had stopped, even if he still occasionally got the lingering feeling he was being watched, even at home.

He did notice - and that, he was sure, was not a trick of his mind – that Valentine was looking at him weirdly from time to time, as if he was about to tell him something but holding himself back at the last second.

Andrew didn't push the subject. Whatever it was, he hoped it had nothing to do with what he had seen that night.

  
  


One of those days, Andrew found himself alone with Alphonse at their workstation.

“Derrick must have overslept”, he noted, looking up at the clock and sighing as he saw the hour hand had moved past nine. He glanced around, hoping their boss wasn't around or looking at them from his office. 

“Maybe something came up?”.

Andrew shook his head. “He would have called me”.

He knew Derrick might not have been the most responsible worker but he was not the type to just not show up without saying anything.

“I'll give him a call”, he told Alphonse. “If Mr. Stevenson comes by just tell him I'm on the toilet and that Derrick is on his way”.

He rushed to the bathroom as quickly as he could without drawing suspicion, locking himself in one of the singles before taking out his phone and opening up his recent calls. The other's name was at the top of the list, as usual. He pressed down on his name and held the phone to his ear, tapping his foot as the ringing went on unanswered. He was almost about to hang up and retry when it finally was cut off by a raspy voice.

“H-hello? Andrew?”, Derrick croaked, his voice hoarse. “Uh... what time is it?”, there was a pause and a muffled swear, then the sound of coughing.“I'm sorry I... I don't think I can-”, and he coughed again. “I thought it'd pass in the morning, but it's gotten worse... I should have warned you yesterday...”

“Wow, it doesn't sound good”, Andrew noted, worried. “Don't worry, I'll tell Mr. Stevenson you're sick. Do you want me to come by after work?”

“No way!”, came Derrick's reply. “If you get sick too, we're gonna be so fucked”. He attempted a laugh which almost immediately devolved into a coughing fit.

_Damn. He's right._

It really wasn't a good idea to have two people working on the same project missing at once. Especially when there only were three of them in total.

  
  


“You were right”, he said once he had made his way back to his seat. “He's sick. Hopefully nothing serious, but he's definitely not showing up today”.

“Damn, that sucks”, Alphonse noted. “Did he send you his data yesterday, before leaving? I didn't see it in my mails.”

“No, he had it in a flash drive, he-”

Andrew froze, eyes growing wide as he realized something.

_Fuck._

“He had brought it home!”, he said, giving the other a panicked look. “He wanted to double check some things. I had forgotten about that. Shit!”. 

He kinda wanted to strangle him now, regardless of his illness.

“We can't finalize anything if we're missing half of the data”, he continued, putting his hands in his hair. “We're screwed!”

“Not quite. We just need to go and get that flash drive”, Alphonse replied, sounding as calm as ever. “It's not that long of a drive. We can get there and come back in less than a hour, probably no more than thirty minutes if he already knows where he's put it”.

Andrew swallowed loudly. He knew their boss would be furious if they all disappeared from the office at the same time. On the other hand, if they told him why they had to go then he also would probably flip his shit, not to mention it'd put Derrick in a really bad light.

“I'll talk to Mr. Stevenson”, Alphonse continued before he could even mention it. “You should call him again and tell him we're coming, and why. Meet me outside by my car, in about fifteen minutes.”

The man got up and walked away before Andrew could even think of stopping him, headed towards the room behind them.

He doubted that their boss would take it well. Then again, if he wanted them to continue their work then there was not much he could do. Unless he wanted to waste everyone's time and send them off to the archive to sort out old documents solely to spite them.

He guessed it depended on how much in a bad mood Stevenson already was in and on how much he wanted to take it out on them compared to how much he wanted them to progress and help him make a good impression with his superiors. Their boss might have been a tyrannical asshole, a pervert and a sleazebag but he was not stupid.

_I'd better go call Derrick._

He did so while heading downstairs, figuring he might as well wait for Alphonse in the meanwhile. Derrick took a while to pick up again and sounded quite confused at first, then he realized his mistake and hurried to apologize to him about his lack of forethought.

“Don't beat yourself up for it, you couldn't know you'd be sick in advance”, Andrew reassured him as he walked out of the building, circling around it to reach the parking lot. “Just try to remember where you've put it, we're coming to get it”.

“Do you think-”, Derrick started, interrupted by a coughing fit. “Could you get me some painkillers? I used the last one yesterday, and my head is killing me”.

_I don't think Mr. Stevenson would want you to waste more time than necessary,_ a small voice warned him from the back of his head, but he ignored it. Stevenson could go fuck himself, Derrick was ill. Besides, he knew he would not have hesitated to do the same for him if he ever needed it. 

“Sure thing. We'll get them on the way there”.

“Thanks man. Just let me know how much I owe you”.

Andrew shook his head, even if the other couldn't see him. “Don't do anything stupid and don't move your ass from that house except to see a doctor until you've recovered, and we'll call it even.”

He knew that the other would take advantage of that to get some extra time off but he didn't mind. He'd much rather have him back fully-healed and well-rested than have him infect half of the office for the sake of rushing back to work.

He'd already closed the call by the time he reached his destination, looking around to find Alphonse's car. He wasn't sure he'd recognize it since his recollections of that night were, well, not exactly focused on his surroundings.

There were other details that had prevented him from paying attention to that sort of things. He'd been kind of more preoccupied with what happened  _on_ that vehicle than what it looked like.

_This is really not the time for that sort of thinking._

He forced himself to stay in the present. They had to go and get that flash drive and he had to find that car, anything else was unnecessary.

It didn't take him that long anyway. Despite looking completely ordinary for the most part, its black matte finish immediately caught his eye; as soon as he saw it he knew he would have been able to tell even if he never had seen it before.

He approached it with hesitation, a deep feeling of uneasiness rising inside him with every step.

_It was right there that he..._

He couldn't force that thought out of his head. It all came flashing back to him until he was crouching down on the pavement and holding his head, shaking like a leaf.

_No... no..._

He wanted to run away. Couldn't he rush back to the office and leave Alphonse to handle that alone? Maybe if he hurried he could still make it.

“Andrew?”, a sudden voice dragged him back to reality. “Are you alright?”. A hand was placed on his shoulder and he almost screamed, jolting up and turning around.

“I-I'm fine!”, he quickly replied, his heart beating so loud that he feared the other was going to hear it. “Let's go”. It was the last thing he wanted to do but he knew he had no choice. 

Alphonse used his remote control to open the doors, getting inside to start the engine and waiting for him to join him.

The smooth rumbling of the car and its color both reminded Andrew of a growling panther ready to pounce on him and eat him alive. He tried to shake that feeling off himself but something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to get away, telling him that he was walking right into the lion's den.

_It's never happening again,_ he repeated in his mind, taking deep breaths to calm himself like he always did every time his thoughts lingered back to that night.

He had to act like it never happened in the first place. It was the only way to get through it.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he managed to force himself to open the door and sit down on the passenger side.

Alphonse waited for him to have fastened the seat-belt before driving away, out of the parking lot and into the street, in the direction of Derrick's house.

Neither of them said anything for a while and maybe that was what prompted the man to turn on the radio. Andrew had tensed up again for a second, half-expecting to hear the first notes of  _you are my sunshine_ come out of it. Thankfully it was just some generic pop song. He barely held back a sigh of relief as he relaxed against the seat.

“Did you call him?”, Alphonse asked after a while, prompting him to remember his promise to Derrick.

“Ah, right! I told him we'd stop by a pharmacist on the way, he's all out of painkillers”, he said, looking out to see if they were passing by one.

“Oh, I've got some. They're in the glove box”. 

Andrew opened up the compartment in front of him, rummaging through it until his hands closed around a bottle of pills, taking it out to examine it. It was only half-full and the label was too ruined too read anything on it.

“What are these?”, he asked, unable to hide the nervous tinge in his voice.

“Ibuprofen... or something like that”. Alphonse shrugged. “Works like a charm every time, it's like a goddamn miracle”

Andrew still didn't seem convinced.

“How do you know it's not expired?”, he asked. He couldn't even read if there was any expiration date specified anywhere on the bottle.

“Because it wasn't even last year when I got them. They still work fine, trust me, I used one just the other day”, the other replied, sighing when he saw the skepticism in his face. “Look, I could stop somewhere but we're already pushing our luck. Mr. Stevenson wasn't exactly ecstatic to hear the news. I managed to convince him it'd be only a matter of minutes, so the more time we take the more pissed off he'll be once we're back. Especially with Derrick, since he's the entire reason we're in this situation in the first place.”

Andrew clenched his grasp on the small plastic bottle. He didn't like the idea of giving pills to someone without even knowing what it was for sure, but he knew Alphonse was right. He couldn't put his coworker's career at risk because of his paranoia.

He reluctantly shut down the small voice inside him telling him not to trust the man in the car with him. There was no reason for him to want to harm Derrick, if anything  _he_ was the one who might be targeted. After all, what he had done to him the last time was certainly  _not_ harmless.

_And yet it was exactly what you wanted, wasn't it?_

He turned his head to hide his expression, looking out of the window without really seeing anything.

He didn't want to think about it anymore. He didn't know what made him feel worse, if the fact that he didn't try hard enough to stop him or the fact that when he did try it didn't even matter. He felt like he had absolutely no choice in the matter, yet he was still overcome by guilt every time he remembered.

He should have gotten back inside the moment he saw him. He shouldn't have followed him. He should have rejected his attentions from the start. He most certainly shouldn't have stripped down in front of him while knowing about their mutual attraction. He should have fought harder, he  _barely even tried to_ , and that was probably the worst part of it. No matter how much he could tell himself he hadn't wanted it, it would always feel like a lie.

Even now, the thought of being alone with him in the same place again should have only filled him with disgust and regret, but there was a part of him – a small, insidious part of him – that quivered with anticipation.

He could only hope that Alphonse would keep his word.

He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't.

He didn't want to find out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Place your bets, folks~~
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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>   * Short comments
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	9. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~Take a wild guess at what might possibly happen in this chapter... much surprise very suspence~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for late posting, I am at a friend's house for her birthday so yesterday I could not stay up late and today we were busy preparing food and stuff until now :P

 

Derrick's house was as messy as usual, if not even more. 

At least normally there would only be clothes to dodge on the floor and no piles of crumpled up tissues that had missed the trash bins by several inches.

The younger man seemed glad to see them but didn't want to get too close in fear of infecting them. He had wrapped his blanket around himself up to the nose to welcome them in, shambling around the house looking like a giant burrito.

“ It's somewhere in my desk drawers, I'm pretty sure”, he croaked, sniffling a bit. His eyes were watery and had a reddish tinge and his short hair was damp with sweat. Some of it was sticking to his forehead in small tufts. He tried to muffle his near-constant coughing with his hand with little success as it could still be heard even from rooms apart.

Andrew went to look for the flash drive right away, trying not to let anything fall from the pile of objects stacked on top of the desk, while Alphonse approached Derrick.

“ Andrew said you wanted painkillers”, he said, handing the small bottle of pills to him. “Don't take more than necessary”.

“ Hell yes”, Derrick replied, slipping one of his arms out from his cocoon of fabric to grab it and waddling towards the kitchen to get himself a cup of water. “Sorry, I'd offer you something but I think that'd be a health hazard”.

“ That's fine. We should be out of here as soon as possible, before Mr. Stevenson demands our head”, Alphonse noted. “Have you found it yet, Andrew?”

“ Just a second...”, he replied, grimacing as his fingers brushed on what he hoped wasn't a dried up chewing gum stuck on the inside of the drawer. “Aha, found it!”. He held out the small black and red flash drive, grinning triumphantly. 

“ Great. Then, we'll be out of here. You take care, alright Derry?”

“ Sure thing, Al. Thanks for the medicine”. The young man peeked again from the kitchen. “Bye Andy!”

“ Bye Derrick, see you at the office”.

  


Andrew was feeling better after that visit. The other man had looked a lot better than how he sounded on the phone. Then again, Derrick always sounded like he was on the verge of death whenever he was ill, so he guessed that was to be expected. 

He could only hope neither him nor Alphonse would catch it, because the last thing he wanted to do was to lay in his bed coughing for days. 

_ On the other hand, getting pampered by Angela for a few days wouldn't be too bad. _

He tried to wipe his grin off of his face before the other noticed, turning to look outside the window. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, his whole body leaning closer to it until his nose was pressed against the glass. 

_ Where the hell are we? _

He was pretty sure that w asn't the right way to the office. In fact it looked like they had driven past it and were headed straight towards the outskirts of the city. 

“ Al, wait, I think you made a wrong turn”, he warned him, but the other seemed unconcerned by that.

“ It's a shortcut”, he said, giving Andrew a look that chilled him to the bone.

The car suddenly turned to take a dirt road, following it until they reached a knoll topped by a small church which seemed to have been deserted for years.

Andrew looked up at him in confusion and apprehension. He didn't know what was going on, but he had a really bad feeling about it.

“ W-why did you stop?”, he asked, slowly backing away from him. “We're not at the office yet...”.

“ I said it was a shortcut”, Alphonse replied, tilting his head as his lips spread into a sinister grin. “I never said we were going to the office”. Then his hand went to the keys, turning off the ignition and pressing a button on the remote attached to the key-chain. 

There was a snapping noise as the doors locked around them. Andrew's eyes grew wide, staring as the other crawled towards him like a jaguar.

_ No! _

He turned around and tried to force his way out of there, frantically pulling on the handle and pummeling the door. He gasped as the man's body was suddenly on him, pushing him against his seat before pulling a lever, making it collapse backwards under their combined weight.

“ Let me go! No! Alphonse let m- _ mhhh! _ ”

The man's hand was on his mouth, muffling his protests against its palm. Andrew tried to push him off in a panicked frenzy, punching and kicking blindly. One of his hits got him in the face, but that only seemed to fire him up even more. 

Suddenly the other's free hand closed against his throat, making him gasp for air. He tilted up his head in an attempt to free his airways, inhaling through his nose, but the grip on his neck kept tightening. He tried to pull Alphonse’s arms off from himself but it was like trying to pry open an iron vise. His mind was getting foggy, his heart beating louder and louder against his eardrums. His vision blurred as his eyes started to water, his gaze still fixated on the man on top of him. 

“ Stop fighting it, Andrew”, Alphonse commanded,  his voice sounding far off in the distance even if he was just a few inches from him. “You knew this would happen”.

The grip was released and the man's hand moved from his mouth, only to be replaced by his lips. Andrew felt his whole body getting weak, as if that kiss had drained him of all of his willpower and strength. He didn't reciprocate, but he didn't turn his head or try to push him off again. 

Alphonse's hands went to his chest, fingers sliding in the gaps between the buttons of his shirt, grasping onto the edges of the fabric and pulling until it snapped open. Andrew could do nothing except let out a small sound of protest as he felt him caress his bare skin, fingers tracing his collarbone and the line of his abdomen down to his navel. He felt like the other's touch was setting him on fire, his clothes suddenly feeling too tight and too warm against him. 

As soon as the other pulled back from the kiss he breathed heavily, staring at him in fear and silently pleading for mercy. He couldn't take anymore of his assault, he knew he wouldn't be able to fight it. 

“ You're so beautiful”, Alphonse whispered, one hand rising to stroke his cheek and grasp on his chin before kissing him again. 

Andrew closed his eyes, feeling the other's tongue against his and sniffling as his body reacted to the contact, feeling himself grow hard underneath him. He knew that the other man could feel it because his thigh slipped between Andrew's, pressing and rubbing against it. 

He only wanted for him to stop, but he didn't know how to and his own body was betraying him, welcoming the contact like a man stranded in the desert would feast on a glass of water. He tried to push him off again but his hands were quickly trapped above his head and another hand traveled along his chest, fingers playing with his nipples until they hardened under the touch. 

_ No! _

Angela toyed with him like that, sometimes, and at those times he couldn't help but writhe and moan underneath her, letting her take control. He didn't want Alphonse to do the same but he couldn't help the way his traitorous body reacted to those attentions. His cock grew even harder against the man's body and he could feel a similar pressure growing against his hips, holding his breath as he realized Alphonse was getting as turned on as he was.

“ W-wait”, he whispered as soon as his lips were freed, gasping and moaning in pleasure as those fingers pinched one of his nipples, twisting and pulling on it. “Al, please-”

“ Just let it happen”, Alphonse replied, his other hand unfastening his seat-belt and fumbling with his pants until his erection sprang free, before doing the same for himself.

Andrew shivered and gasped as he felt the other's warm skin pressed against his own, their cocks rubbing against each other as his breath sped up and his heart beat even faster. He could vaguely hear a song playing from the radio in the background but he couldn’t make out the words , unable to focus on anything but the warmth of the man in front of him.

His smell was invading his nostrils again, making him feel lightheaded. He wanted to push him away but he couldn't, his hands were trapped and his body wasn't responding to him. Instead his hips moved against Alphonse's, flesh rubbing against flesh as their breaths mingled together, and their mouths clashed again. 

He moaned in the kiss, his legs tangling with the other's and his hands wrapping around his shoulders as soon as they were released. His orgasm was drawing near, his breath growing more and more labored as they both picked up the  pace, humping each other like frenzied animals. Alphonse's head moved down, his mouth closing arou nd one of his nipples, and Andrew cried out in pleasure and anguish.

“ N-no I... I'll cum!” he protested, but his hips bucked against the other's and his chest moved upwards against that warm mouth. 

It only took him a few more minutes before his whole body shuddered, arching up as he came against Alphonse's body, spraying his cum between them. Soon enough he felt a similar warmth spill out from the other's cock, spurting all over his stomach.

Neither of them said anything as they laid against each other, catching their breath.

“ I'll lend you a spare shirt”, Alphonse whispered after a while, leaning down to kiss his neck, making him shiver. He used a handkerchief to wipe the mess left on both of their stomachs, albeit the worst of it was on the man underneath him.

Andrew didn't reply, shoving his cock back inside his pants and pulling the halves of his ripped shirt back together as he trembled, staring in silence as the other walked out of the car to retrieve something from the trunk.

It had happened again. 

And once again he'd been unable to fight him off. 

Not only that, he realized with growing shame, he actually had actively started to go along with it at some point.

He tried not to think about it as Alphonse gave him another shirt to change into, and turned around to avoid facing him as he stripped and put it on. It was too large, which was to be expected given their difference in height, but he hoped it wouldn't be too noticeable.

“ I-I thought we'd pretend it never happened”, he said, his voice shaking as he looked up at him. 

Alphonse smirked, reaching out to hold his face in both hands. 

“ There's no 'pretending' here”, he said, lips brushing dangerously close against his. “We both want each other. There's no way around that”.

Andrew shook his head, trembling as he saw and felt him move in for a kiss again.

“ I can't”, he whispered, holding back his tears as he looked away. “Please, I can't do this”.

He wanted to yell at him to leave him alone, to get his hands off of him, but he could only pull back and grab his wrists to prevent him from getting closer.

“ It's going to happen again”, the man warned him, his usually smooth voice sounding huskier and threatening. “And there's nothing either I or you can do about it”.

“ You piece of shit”, Andrew snapped, glaring at him. “You  _ forced _ me-”.

“ Is  _ that _ going to be your excuse?”, Alphonse interrupted him, raising one of his eyebrows. “I suppose I also forced you to come inside my car alone, away from prying eyes, that other night? Did I also force you to slip your tongue in my mouth when we kissed?”

“ Fuck off!”.

Andrew threw a punch at him but the other dodged it easily, pulling him into a firm embrace and ignoring his struggles. 

“ I didn't take you for a man of violence”, he remarked, laughing at the other intensified his efforts to break free from his hold. “Guess even tame dogs bite when pushed in a corner”.

“ Let me go you bast-”. Andrew's protests were cut off by the other's lips again. “N-no! Stop it – mmfh!”. He tried to pull back from the kiss but Alphonse's hand went for his hair, grasping on it to hold him in place. 

_ No no I can't! I have to- _

His whole body stiffened and suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped inside him. His hands grasped harder on the other's shirt but now he was pulling him closer, his tongue chasing Alphonse's as he kissed him back, the first flames of his burning anger now engulfed by the deep fire of passion. 

He hated him but he wanted him ,  so badly that he couldn't bear it, and he hated that he was making him feel that way. He hated those eyes and the way they seemed to pierce into his soul, he hated feeling like the other could read inside him and he hated what he knew he couldn't hide from him anymore. He hated his taste and the way he knew it would linger in his mouth for days to come, no matter how hard he tried to wash it out. He hated his smell and how it would permeate his nostrils in the same way, and he hated that he couldn't stop thinking about him every time his senses recalled those sensations. 

It was Andrew's mouth that chased his when Alphonse first pulled back, licking his lips before covering them with his own, his anger slowly melting away while his hands wandered along the other's back, pressing his own chest against his. He felt the grip on his hair loosen up, the man's hand sliding down his nape and on his neck, while the other slipped under his shirt to caress his back. 

They kissed again and again as if neither of them could get enough of the taste, until Andrew was left breathless, his lips swollen and red. His eyes slowly opened and the tears he'd held back before came falling down, trailing down his cheeks without a sound. 

He swatted away the other's hand when the man tried to wipe them with his fingers, moving away to slide back into his seat and put his seat belt on again, without saying a word.

Alphonse followed suit before turning the motor back on, the radio immediately coming back to life, and he started driving them back to their original destination.

_ -...you told me once, dear, you really loved me, and no one else could come between... - _

The notes of the song started to sound more and more familiar, until Andrew finally recognized the words and realized it was some new pop cover of his least favorite song. 

_ -...when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love you, please don't take... - _

He almost wanted to laugh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	10. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this one is so short! It was very difficult to decide how to split this part of the story.

 

Derrick was back to work after only two days, seemingly as lively as ever.

“I told you that stuff is miraculous”, Alphonse had remarked, chuckling as Andrew had rolled his eyes. 

He still didn't feel good about that whole mystery medicine business, but judging from that absurdly fast recovery it seemed to have worked fine.

“Are you sure you should be back already?”, he asked Derrick, unable to hide his concern. He didn't want him to push himself only to infect all of them and then end up back at home in an even worse state from the overexertion.

“I've never felt better in my life”, the other replied, typing away with enthusiasm. “I feel like I could finish this whole thing alone!”.

“Next time we have to come by your house to fetch your work, we might let you do just that”, Andrew threatened him, to which Derrick pouted.

“Why are you so mean to me now? To think you were so kind and thoughtful the other day... do I have to get sick again to see your nice side?”, the man whined, dodging the eraser that was thrown at his face. “Al, look at what I have to put with!”

“He's just too shy to express his true feelings”, Alphonse said with a small smile. “A man that can't be honest with himself is only to be pitied, don't you think?”. His eyes stared straight into Andrew's hazel ones, his smile growing wider.

Andrew swallowed the lump in his throat and lowered his gaze,ignoring Derrick's chuckling. He could feel his face heat up and could only hope he wasn't turning red.

As before, Alphonse was acting like nothing had happened – except now he would take the occasion to sneak in subtle comments or throw quick glances at him, smirking when Andrew noticed and looked back at him before immediately pretending to focus on something else.

The bastard seemed to be amused by his discomfort, and it wasn't long before his behavior escalated from there. He would sneak up on him while he was immersed in his work, his hands resting on Andrew's now-tensed shoulders as he leaned in closer, checking on his progress or giving him suggestions. He would walk into the bathroom while he was there waiting for his turn, eyeing him up and down and grinning at his affronted expression. He would ask him for a pen and “accidentally” close his fingers around Andrew's, brushing them with his own as he pulled away.

As if that wasn't enough, Andrew's nightmares kept getting worse, except now he could remember bits and fragments of them upon waking up. Unsurprisingly, Alphonse was in each and every one of them, taunting him even in his sleep.

“Maybe you should go to a doctor”, Angela told him one of those nights, moving in closer to hold him from behind and resting her chest against his back.

“It's just stress”, Andrew replied, sighing and closing his eyes as she brushed his hair.

“Then maybe you should get some time off”, she suggested, her other hand moving down to draw circles on his arms with her fingertips. “I've never seen you like this. Did something happen at work?”.

“No,” he replied, too quickly, and she made a small disappointed noise. 

He sighed again, taking her hand with his and tangling his fingers with hers.

“It's just... a lot of stuff. A lot of the usual. And, the new guy is a bit...”, he hesitated, as if looking for the right word. “He is kind of a lot to handle.”

“Worse than Derrick?”, she asked teasingly, to which Andrew let out a small laugh.

“Derrick isn't that bad, just not that focused. And he's getting better at that, actually. He's as reckless as ever, though”, he replied. “and Alphonse is good at his job too. It's just...”, he hesitated again, not wanting to reveal too much in fear of her guessing the exact nature of his worries. “He takes too many liberties”.

“Maybe he just doesn't realize it”, she suggested. “You're not exactly the most assertive person, so for someone who doesn't know you, it could be hard to tell when they've pushed things too far.”

“I don't recall you needing much time to adjust to that.”, he replied, and she squeezed his hand.

“Not everyone is as perceptive as me”, she said. “Some people need to be put back in their place when they step out of line”.

Andrew groaned in response, turning around to pull her in for a short kiss, burying his face in her chest as soon as their lips parted.

“I wish I could just stay with you forever”, he said, closing his eyes again as she went back to brushing his hair. “Other people are too much to deal with.”

“You should make friends, eventually. You know that, right? You can't just ignore everyone else forever”, she noted. “What will you do when I'm dead from old age, and you're all alone again?”

“I'll sneak into your coffin and let them bury us together”, he stubbornly replied, holding her tighter.

“That's morbid, Andrew”, she complained. “And kind of adorable. But still morbid.”

“I don't need friends. I have you, and Valentine”, he insisted.

“He's not gonna be around forever either. He's about to turn seventeen soon. He might already have found someone to be with, for all we know”, she noted.

“Wouldn't he tell you?”, he asked, looking up at her.

“He doesn't talk about that sort of thing, not even with me”, she said, shrugging. “But I think he does have someone. I just have no idea of who she could be. If he was like you it'd be easier to guess, but he has no shortage of girls he likes to hang around with”.

“Hopefully he has at least inherited my good taste”, he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You're such a smartass”, she scoffed, pinching his nose. “But back to the point, I do think you should take some time off”.

“After we're done with this project. You know how it is, nobody can relax until the Big Man's got what he wanted”, he explained, rolling his eyes at the thought. He could just imagine Stevenson's face if he tried to ask for a vacation weeks before a deadline.

“We could go somewhere”, she proposed, looking pensive. “How many years has it been since we've traveled together?”

“Two, I think”, he answered, thinking back to their 15 year anniversary in Paris. It had taken them forever to organize it, but it had been really worth it in the end. And thankfully Valentine could speak French well enough to save them from more than a couple embarrassing situations with the locals.

“I meant the two of us, alone”, she precised, and Andrew sat up on the bed.

“What?!”, he almost yelled, lowering his voice at the last second. “And leave Valentine to take care of the house?!”.

“I think he can handle that much”, she replied with a shrug. “We can ask my sister to come over and keep an eye on him if it'll help you feel safer”.

“But he's... I mean come on, leaving a teenager to his own devices with the whole house to himself and basically no adult supervision?”, he protested. “I don't think he's quite ready for this kind of responsibility”.

“You weren't that much older when we got married”, she noted, cocking an eyebrow and giving him a sly smile. “I think you're underestimating him, Andy. Not to mention, if you expect him to trust you more, maybe you should first show him that you can do the same”.

Andrew laid down again, resting his head against his pillow. Suddenly all the tiredness that had left him after waking up was coming right back at him, making it hard to focus

“We'll talk about it...” – he mumbled, interrupted halfway by a loud yawn – “...some other time, ok?”.

He heard her laugh softly as she leaned in closer again, and closed his eyes as she pulled the cover over them again, before resting her face against his chest.

“Night, honey”.

“Goodnight love”.

He thought he could feel something brush against his face for a brief moment, like the lightest of touches, and the hint of a sickly-sweet smell wafting near him.

His eyes snapped open, but no one else was there.

_Just the lingering memory of a bad dream._

Still, he couldn't help but shiver, his heart beating faster as he closed his eyes again and slowly drifted into sleep.

  
  


He felt her arms wrapped around him from behind as he woke up the next morning, feeling glad for the fact that it was a weekend and he could sleep in for a change. He smiled and interlocked his fingers with hers, holding her arms closer to his chest.

“Morning”, he murmured, still keeping his eyes closed.

He slowly became aware of the pleasant aroma that was permeating the air. It smelled like bacon and eggs, and something else he didn't recognize. There was almost something putrid to it, covered underneath the overt sweetness, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

“Andy, are you still in bed?”, Angela's voice called him from the kitchen.

“I'm coming!”, he yelled back, a bit reluctant. He would have loved to bask for a few more minutes in that warm-

He froze up.

_No..._

The other's hands clasped on his, arms clenching around him as if to lock him in place. He felt a warm breath against his ear as the man leaned in closer behind him, his smell filling his nostrils.

He yanked his arms out of that grasp, turning around to confront him and-

He was gone.

As if he'd never even been there.

Andrew stared at the empty space next to himself, lowering a trembling hand onto the mattress as if he expected him to materialize back out of nowhere.

_Did I... was I still dreaming?._

He touched the sheets. They still felt warm.

“Andy? Come on, your eggs will get cold”, Angela called him again, sounding more insistent.

Andrew swallowed loudly as he began to get a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

Suddenly he wasn't sure he felt so hungry anymore.

  
  


 

Derrick was surprising him more and more with every passing week.

The first day Andrew saw him stay seated at his desk while  _he_ was getting ready to go home he thought someone must have spiked the water dispenser, cause he had never seen that with his own two eyes before. Maybe his hallucinations were reaching a whole new level.

“Where is the real Derrick and what have you done to him?”, he asked in amazement, poking his arm as if he was expecting him to disappear in a puff of smoke. 

The other man huffed, but his lips curved into a gloating smile as he stopped typing to look at him.

“It's amazing how much you can get done when you can actually focus on it”, he replied, sounding almost as surprised as he was. “I'm almost having fun with this now. _Almost_. I still hate reports.”

“I can't believe I'm actually saying this to you, but don't push yourself too hard, ok? We still have two weeks left to surmise everything and present it to the boss”, Andrew reminded him, smiling and holding back the urge to shake his head.

_Man, I never thought I'd have seen the day he stayed behind to finish his work for longer than me, and without being asked._

He was already on his way out when Derrick called out to him.

“Ah, Andy wait! About next week...”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	11. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...femdom chapter? 
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) femdom chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I will not be home tomorrow night + I will most likely be ~~hungover~~ unavailable the next day, and since the last chapter was so short, I figured it's only fair to give you an early chapter ^^
> 
>  
> 
> BTW I am plotting so many things for the second part of the story and the like, and between trying to figure out how to make all the twists and turns fit into the story as I write the new chapters and going back to the older ones to check previous information, this is basically me in these days:
> 
> I cannot share most of it because spoilers but what I can share is:
> 
> 1) So far I have determined that there will likely be either 3 or 4 parts in total in this story. I like to think of it like seasons of a TV series.  
> 2) Currently we are about halfway through the first one, albeit I might have to edit/add things to the last chapter(s).   
> 3) I might take a break inbetween these parts to make sure I don't run out of chapters and keep the flow, depending on how things go. I have a lot of things going on in June and July (my own birthday, multiple doctor visits, something like 4 Pride Parades, much paperwork, a work deadline, an illustration for a Secret Thing, possibly organizing a trip to London in September, etc ) so might not have a lot of time to write new chapters, so I'd really prefer to make a 2 weeks break or so between part 1 and part 2 and then be back on schedule than to rush updates, also to double check for consistency.  
>  ~~4) trust nobody not even yourself~~

 

“...so Derrick has a girlfriend now?”, asked Angela, turning her attention away from her painting to glance at him, her lips curved into a small smirk.

“Well, not yet. You know the girl he was chatting up all evening at the dinner? Turns out her name is Susan, she works in accounting and they've been keeping in touch since then, just texting each other and that sort of stuff”, Andrew explained, walking around the room and sipping his beer before continuing. “There's some kind of show she wanted to go to next week, on Thursday, so he went ahead and got tickets for both of them”.

“And that's why he wants you to cover up for him so he can leave early”, she concluded, looking back at the canvas and proceeding to fill it with more color. “So, are you gonna do it?”.

“I can't ruin his chances with her, now, can I? He might actually get his act together”, he replied, walking up to the couch before letting himself drop on it. “Still can't believe it took him this long to get into a steady relationship. I've known him for almost five years now and this is the first time he's actually taking his time to know a girl before sleeping with her”.

“Or maybe it's just the first time _you_ hear of one”, she suggested, but he immediately shook his head.

“Come on Ange, that's Derrick we're talking about. He would have told everyone if he'd been seeing someone before”, he said, grimacing before taking another sip of beer. “I think I've heard the story of his high school break-up at least five times, and that's just counting the times he was sober while telling it”.

“Next thing we know, maybe Valentine's gonna bring a girl over to meet us”, she remarked, and Andrew groaned a bit at the thought. 

“Now I feel old”.

She groaned as well.

“You're only thirty-five, Andrew. If you're old, what does that make me?”

“An old broa- _ouch!_ ”. He didn't dodge in time to avoid her slipper. “The truth hurts!”

“Hold your tongue before an elder”, she joked back, sticking out her tongue. 

She was actually only one year older than him, but she didn't show it. In fact, she barely looked like she was past her twenties, so people usually assumed Andrew was the older party in the relationship, although he also looked no older than thirty.

“By the way, I've sent in the request for that vacation. It still needs to be approved but I don't think there's going to be any issue. We're mostly done with the data, so it's all a matter of refining things now”, he said, placing the half-empty bottle on the short glass table in front of him. “So if you want to start thinking about where you'd like to go...”.

“I guess we should also ask Valentine. We don't even know if he has any plans”, she noted. 

Andrew took in a deep breath before answering.

“Well I was...”, he said, hesitating for a few seconds. “I was thinking maybe... maybe you're right. I'm sure he could handle the house for a week. I mean, he could always call us if anything goes wrong, right?”, he continued, trying to convince himself rather than her.

Angela was so stunned she almost dropped her paintbrush. She picked it right back up before it hit the ground, placing it on the shelf of her easel together with her palette before running up to him, almost hitting the table in her rush. Andrew held her close as she sat in his lap, kissing him with abandon. He kissed her back with the same passion, the warmth of that gesture almost washing away his worries. Almost.

“Are you sure?”, she asked, cupping his face and looking straight at him, her green eyes piercing into his as if she was trying to read his mind.

“Yes”, he lied, nervously biting his lip. “Well, no, actually... but you seem to be sure, and I trust you to know what you're doing”, he finally admitted.

“It's gonna be fine”, she assured him, briefly kissing him again. “We're going to relax, you're going to forget about your work and think of nothing but getting a nice tan, and we're going to see some art museums...”

“Museum _s_? Does it have to be plural?”, he asked almost imploringly.

“I promise you, no more than four...”

“Two?”.

She tilted her head, staring down at him, but he didn't back down.

“ _Three._ Take it or leave it”, she finally conceded.

He held out his hand. “Deal”.

She grinned widely, grasping it into a firm handshake.

“Nice making business with you”. 

Angela remained silent for a while after that, seemingly lost in thought.

“You know”, she finally said as her hands moved down his chest, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. “I think Valentine might be staying over at Mark's place today”.

Andrew's breath sped up at those words and his heart started to race.

“Oh, really?”, he said, a bit too quickly to sound casual.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure in fact”, she replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt down to the point where it met his trousers, pulling the remaining fabric out from underneath them to continue.

“I-I thought you were busy”, he murmured, feeling his face heat up as she pulled the shirt down his shoulders, helping him take the sleeves off his arms.

“I think I deserve a break”, she remarked, unbuttoning her own paint-stained coat and letting it fall on the floor behind them, before grasping on the front of her gray tank top and pulling it off of herself.

Andrew held his breath as her bare chest was displayed to him. He knew she rarely wore a bra if she was just staying indoors, but he still wasn't quite prepared for the sight. It had been a while since they had done it anywhere but in their bedroom, where she was either already naked for the occasion or wearing her pajamas – or, on special occasions, the sexy lingerie that he had bought for her. It was quite different from seeing her unwrap herself in front of him like an early birthday gift.

He didn't wait for her to spell it out to follow her invitation. His hands moved on her waist, pulling her in, and he started kissing her neck until she sighed in pleasure before his mouth traveled down to her breasts. He covered her soft skin in brief warm kisses, closing his lips around one of her nipples and suckling until he felt her fingers dig into his back, scratching him hard enough to leave marks.

“Andy, please”, she cried out, hurrying to open up his pants and move aside his underwear. “I want you”.

He couldn't hold himself back. His hips aligned against hers even if his own body didn't know what to do just yet, his cock still half soft between her legs.

She lifted herself so that she could position it against her pussy, rubbing herself against it. Andrew's breath hitched as he felt her soft folds caress his length, her arousal slowly leaking down along the tip and higher half, the moisture helping it slide more easily against her sensitive flesh.

He rocked his hips to follow her, gasping as he felt her entrance pressed against him, but he still was not quite hard enough to get it in.

“I want you too”, he said, his voice trembling with desire. 

Their bodies kept pushing against each other, his fingers grasping down on her frame as his cock seemed to grow harder with each movement, until finally the head slipped past her wet entrance, which easily welcomed every inch of his dick.

He kept pushing his length inside her until he felt it buried down to the root, then he immediately started thrusting like there was no tomorrow, groaning in pleasure as her body shook against him, her muscles clenching around his shaft.

Angela cried out loud but didn't protest, wrapping her legs around him as she tried to match his rhythm, riding him hard. If she was in any discomfort she didn't show it, in fact she only kissed him again, a long passionate kiss that left them both panting and gasping for air.

Normally he would have tried to take his time to enjoy the moment, but not this time. They were going at it like animals, focusing on nothing but their pleasure and lust for each other's skin.

He was getting nearer and nearer to his limit, but he didn't dare to shoot it out yet, hissing as he felt her inner muscles squeeze hard against his flesh. It took all of his willpower not to just give up and relish in the moment on his own, ignoring her needs.

“Can... can I come?”, he asked in a needy voice, almost begging her for mercy.

“Not yet,” she said, her fingernails digging into his shoulders again.

Andrew tried to insist but he was soon brought back to silence as his orgasm kept building up, his body shaking from the effort of holding himself back.

Soon enough she clamped up around him and arched up, letting out a hoarse scream as she came, her whole body shuddering for several moments before she let herself fall limp in his grasp.

Andrew waited for her, even if in that moment he wished for nothing more than to empty himself inside her. He clenched his teeth as she got up and unsheathed herself out of his cock, her body still lightly shaking from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“Don't move”, she ordered, taking her time to catch her breath. He let out a small whiny noise but didn't protest, his cock so hard it almost hurt, still glistening with her fluids. 

Finally she moved again, lifting her head to look at him in the eyes as her lips curved up in a mischievous grin.

“Hold still”.

He obeyed her without question, laying down against the couch as she pulled away, kneeling in front of him. Her lips closed around his length and soon he was panting and moaning again, his hands grasping on her soft hair as he tried to get her to speed up, but she took hold of his wrists and forced him to place them on the edge of the sofa.

“Angela, please!”, he cried, feeling desperate and somewhat light-headed. She was bobbing her head up and down, sucking down on his length as if it was a delicious popsicle. He could barely hold it together at that point, his mind filled with nothing but need.

When he felt her swallow him down completely, the tip of his cock deep into her throat, he finally couldn't hold back anymore. He came with a strangled cry, almost sobbing in relief as his seed spurted inside her for what felt like an eternity. Her hand went to stroke his balls, massaging them as if she was trying to milk out every last drop before pulling back, licking her lips as she stared up at him.

“I don't recall telling you that you could cum”, she teased, and Andrew held his breath. “How are you going to make it up to me?”.

“I-I don't know”, he replied. His heart raced up as he saw the look in her face. He knew that look all too well, it made him feel weak, as if he was going to melt right in front of her.

“Come on, let's get washed up”, she said, getting up and taking his hand to guide him up to the upstairs bathroom.

She stepped into the shower first, turning the water on. Andrew followed suit, letting the water run down his skin as he stared at her, wondering what she was thinking of.

Angela closed her eyes, throwing her head back to allow the jet of water to fall on her face, her chest rising as she pulled back her shoulders. Andrew leaned in for a kiss but she stopped him, placing her fingers against his lips. She tilted her head and smiled at him, opening her green eyes to gaze into his.

“I can think of better ways for you to use your mouth right now”, she noted, and he immediately took the hint. 

He first leaned down to kiss her chest, starting from her collarbone and making his way down to her breasts, lapping at her rapidly puckering nipples until they were both hard before closing his mouth around one, licking and sucking eagerly as her fingers slid into his hair, holding him in place.

He both heard and felt her breath quicken, her chest rising and falling more rapidly in front of him. She pulled on his hair to force him to move his attentions to her other breast, waiting for him to latch onto it and lavish the same attentions on her right nipple.

He alternated between them, following her lead, until she seemed to grow tired of it and pushed his head down until he was kneeling in front of her. He traced a trail of kisses from her abdomen to her pubes, stopping to slip his tongue into her bellybutton, but she only allowed it for a few seconds before pressing down with her palm to prompt him to go lower.

Andrew placed one hand on the tiled wall to balance himself, using the other to pull on her skin in order to have easier access to her labia. He went for it straight away, knowing she would only admonish him if he wasted time on foreplay while she was in that state. He started slowly, moving his tongue from her slit up to her clit with long deliberate licks, gradually picking up his pace as her grasp tightened on his hair again, her hips bucking towards him.

He hadn't seen this side of her until several months into their relationship, as she initially thought he would be put off by it. Truth was he hadn't minded at all, in fact he found himself even more enthralled by her domineering attitude, wanting for nothing more than to be praised by her while also not fully disdaining her punishments.

He glanced up at her as he heard her gasp in pleasure, burying his face in her crotch as her hand guided him, her movements quickly becoming more urgent. He had to be careful not to get water up his nose as he licked and sucked on her clit, especially with his face smushed against her pubes.

He followed her lead again as she grasped his hand with hers, guiding it between her legs. Already knowing what she wanted, he slipped two fingers inside her and moved them steadily, smiling inwardly as he heard her cry out his name and felt her inner walls clamp up like a vice, almost cutting the circulation off in his fingers. He waited for her to stop convulsing before pulling them out and moving back to catch his breath, licking his lips as she glanced down at him and gave him  _that_ look, the one that made him shiver through his core.

“Good boy”, she praised him, making his heart leap. “Now let's go to bed”.

Angela released her grasp and patted his head, helping him up before turning off the water and walking out of the shower, getting towels for herself and Andrew.

He patted himself dry with his before wrapping it around his waist and following her out of the room, into the corridor and, finally, to their shared bedroom.

He walked up to the dresser with the intent of getting a clean pair of briefs, but she intercepted him before he could get there and pushed him towards the bed, falling on top of him with a soft laugh.

“I thought we were going to bed”, he said, smiling up at her.

“We _are_ on the bed”, she replied, her hand moving down between his legs. His breath hitched as she took hold of his cock, caressing it slowly. Enough time had passed for him to be able to grow hard again in a matter of minutes thanks to her attentions.

“I thought we were even”, he whimpered, biting his lips as he saw her eyes narrow in response. He knew she wasn't done playing with him, her expression told him that she had something devious planned out for him.

“You make a lot of assumptions”, she noted, tilting her head and glancing down to his now-erect dick. She only gave it a few more quick strokes before letting it go and rolling aside, crawling towards the center of the bed on her hands and knees. “Now come here and fuck me”.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. He knew nothing good would come out of it, but he couldn't possibly deny her, especially not when she was offering herself up like that.

He pushed himself inside with ease, her entrance still wet and ready from before. He held himself back at first but she urged him to pick up his pace and he didn't wait to be told twice. He was still thrusting wildly inside her when she moved away, forcing him to pull out and turning around on the mattress so that she was facing him before wrapping her legs around his hips. He penetrated her again, but she stopped him after a few thrusts.

“Don't move”, she ordered, lowering her hand to touch herself as he watched helplessly, her pussy twitching around his shaft. He felt like she was trying to suck on him with her muscles, shaking as he tried not to think of how good it'd feel to start moving right away again.

“If you cum now, you're not putting it in for a whole month”, she threatened, smirking as he let out a small whiny noise.

He did his best to focus on anything else but her warm flesh around him, fearing that his resolve would fail him at the last second. She was using him as if he was nothing but a toy for her to masturbate with, while all he wanted in that moment was to have sex with her. He bit his lip so hard it almost bled when he felt her clench up again, spasming around him as she came with a strangled cry.

_Please,_ he thought, but he knew better than to ask anything from her.

He almost sighed in relief when she pushed him off, making sure to pull out of her slowly enough to not risk any accidents. However that relief was short-lived, because as soon as she moved aside she made him lie down and spooned him, one of her legs tangling with his to force him to keep them open while one of her hands went back on his cock to stroke it, the other moving up to caress his chest and play with his nipples.

“Will you cum without permission again?”, she asked, and he quickly shook his head.

“I-I won't,” he cried, holding his breath as she pulled back his foreskin and rubbed her thumb against his glans. “Ah! Please...”

“Tell me, Andy”, she whispered against his ear, and he could _hear_ the grin she was wearing right then. “Would you rather not be allowed to cum or not be allowed to have sex with me for a month?”

He moaned loudly, almost sobbing as her hand moved quicker and quicker.

“W-whatever you want, I will do”, he said, desperately wishing she would spare him from that choice. “Just p-please... I can't hold it in for much longer”.

“What if I made you sleep like this?”, she asked, teasing his slit with her fingertips. “Would you touch yourself while I'm not looking?”

“No!” he replied, clenching up his fists and shaking from the effort to hold back his orgasm. “I p-promised... Ah! P-please! If you keep touching me...”

“Alright, alright”, she said, her amusement clearly audible in her voice. She let go of him and he curled up on himself, taking deep breaths to try and regain his composure, painfully aware of how hard his cock was and how close he was to just letting it all out.

“Since you've been so good tonight, I will let you cum... for now”, she said, gently stroking his hair. “But you can't put it inside. You can only cum with my thighs”.

“Thank you...”, he murmured, moving in closer as she laid down again, waiting for him to crawl towards her before pulling up her legs and pushing them together. He wasted no time before pushing his erect cock between them, rubbing it against the inside of her thighs. They felt so silky and warm he almost wanted to cry. Still, he didn't dare to let himself reach his climax until she spoke again.

“Are you close?”, she asked, pressing her legs closer together.

“Ah! Y-yes!”, he moaned, his fingers digging into her flesh. He wasn't sure of how much longer he could last, but he knew it was only a matter of seconds. “Please! I-I can't... I will cum! Please let me...”

“Go ahead”, she conceded, and he came only a few moments after that, unable to hold himself back any longer. He spurted his seed all over her stomach and thighs, then he let himself fall on his side as he collapsed from the relief and the effort, feeling completely spent.

Angela turned around to face him, wrapping her arms around him and stroking his back, covering his face with kisses.

“You're such a good boy”, she murmured, making his heart swell up with pride. “Did you like it?”.

“Yes,” he said, almost out of breath. “I love you...”.

“I love you too”, she replied, smiling warmly. “Say, do you want to do something for me?”

“I don't know that I can now”, he admitted with a small laugh. No matter how hard he wanted to please her, he felt so tired he could barely think straight. He knew when to admit defeat.

“Not now”, she reassured him, brushing his hair away from his face. “But if you hold back from cumming and from touching yourself for this week, I will give you a reward.”

Andrew looked up at her, licking his lips. “What reward?”

“That's a secret”, she said, her smile getting bigger. “But I can promise you that you will like it”, she continued, moving away just to pull up the blanket and cover them both with it before leaning in to hug him again. “You don't have to if you can't, but then you won't get your prize”.

“I will do it”, he decided, looking at her with determination. He didn't know what she had in mind, but he knew she wasn't lying. 

She held him tight, and soon they both drifted to sleep, too exhausted to wash up or get dressed again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	12. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> our Stinky Boy returns

 

Andrew had only failed to consider one small variable in his plan.

A variable that was sitting in front of his desk every day, looking at him like he wanted to eat him up there and then.

He cursed himself for agreeing to it every time the man stopped by as he got up to get coffee, his scent covering up that of the beverage in his hand to the point that he could almost taste him when he brought it to his lips.

He tossed more than a few half-finished plastic cups in his bin in the coming days, ignoring the disapproving look from the cleaning lady when she came by to collect the trash bag on Wednesday.

“Are you sure it's ok if I leave early tomorrow?”.

Derrick sounded quite nervous, and Andrew wasn't entirely sure it was only because of work.

“You've done more these last weeks than you ever did in an entire month”, he replied, smiling at him. “I think it's only fair you go and have fun.” 

Derrick smiled back, but he still looked like his mind was elsewhere.

“Susan seems nice”, Andrew told him, studying his reaction. 

“She really is,” the other said, biting his lips. “I'm honestly scared she might be too good for me”.

“Can't say I don't relate”, he replied. “I feel the same way about Angela”.

“Really? But you guys have been together for an eternity”, said Derrick, surprised by his confession. “And you're so dependable. You've got your whole life sorted out. Meanwhile I'm still struggling to clean up after myself and I haven't had a meal that hasn't been microwaved in days. She's going to think I'm a mess.” 

Andrew shook his head. “You're both young, you've got your whole life to figure things out”.

Derrick huffed at him. “Why do you always talk like an old man? You're not that much older than me”.

“You could almost be my son”, he replied, to which the younger man scoffed.

“Yeah right, if you became a father in elementary school!”.

Andrew didn't push it. He could tell the other didn't like it, but he couldn't stop himself from seeing him as kind of an adoptive son. Or maybe a younger brother, even if he had always been an only child.

“What if I blow it?”, insisted Derrick, biting on his nails. “I've never met a girl like her. She's so sweet and fun and she's stunning, and she actually listens to me and doesn't care about my position or money or the fact that I don't want kids. I'm terrified I'll say something really dumb and she'll think I'm an idiot”.

“That would imply you aren't one”, Andrew teased him, and for once it was his turn to dodge a piece of stationery thrown at him. 

“You two should kiss already”, Alphonse joked, laughing at their disgusted expressions.

“Sorry, I'm not into old men”, Derrick said, turning his chair back to face his monitor.

“I thought you said you were only slightly younger than me”, Andrew noted, placing one hand on his own chest in a theatrical manner. “Now you're hurting my feelings”.

“The truth is I'm only into blondes. You never had a chance”, Derrick replied, prompting Alphonse to laugh again.

“I'm glad to see you're all having fun here”.

Andrew stiffened as he heard Stevenson's voice, turning around to look at his boss.

“I trust this means I'll be seeing your final report on my desk by Saturday”, the man said, his cold eyes narrowing as he stared down at him. “How far along are you?”.

“It's pretty much ready, there's just a few details...” he started to say, but the other waved his hand dismissively.

“All I'm hearing is you still have got work to do. So none of you should be wasting time on chatter”, the man said, his eyes darting towards Derrick's face. “Especially you”.

“I'm sorry”, the other said, lowering his gaze and biting on his nails again.

“I see you're leaving early tomorrow. Any particular reason?”, Stevenson asked, making him gulp loudly.

“I've... I've got some stuff to sort out”, Derrick said, glancing at Andrew as if to beg him to get him out of that conversation.

“It really couldn't wait until next week?”, the older man insisted, sounding quite annoyed. He glanced up at Andrew and Alphonse. “You two better make sure to work extra hard tomorrow. I want to see results, and I want them quick”.

“Yes sir”, said Andrew, forcing himself to smile at him. He hated how the man picked on his co-worker, it was like he didn't even notice how much he was improving, especially lately. 

Derrick looked quite disheartened as Stevenson walked away, and Andrew moved in to pat him on the back.

“Don't worry. We've got this. We might even be done before Friday”, he told him, gently stroking his shoulders. He wasn't very good at showing affection towards anyone but his wife, and he felt incredibly awkward in that moment, but the other seemed to appreciate it.

“I wish he could see how hard we're working on this”, Derrick said, still sounding defeated. “It's like he doesn't even notice”.

“That's easy for him, he's not the one doing most of the work for half of the pay”, Andrew replied. “You're doing really good. I don't know what's gotten into you, but by all means keep it up”.

Derrick looked at him again, smiling a bit. “Thanks man”.

“It's gonna be fine”, Alphonse assured him. “I haven't been around as long as you guys, but I get the feeling he's rarely happy about anything. It's not easy to find a boss that understands just how much works goes into the small things. You've got an eye for detail, and that's nothing to overlook”.

As much as he hated to admit it, Andrew was grateful for his words. The other didn't get much praise for his work, and he really deserved it. He wasn't so good with that sort of thing either, but he did appreciate Derrick's efforts even before those last weeks.

“You go and have fun tomorrow, and then you'll tell us all about it”, he said before moving back to his desk. “We've got you covered”.

  
  


The following day, Andrew wished he could have been as confident as the previous one when he saw the other gather his things and get ready to leave, glancing at his own reflection in the now black computer screen.

“Do I look presentable?”, Derrick asked, using his hands to comb some hair away from his face.

“You look great,” he repeated for the third time that day, trying not to sound too exasperated. He knew how nervous the other was, and remembered being just as nervous the first times he went out with Angela, so he couldn't really blame him for needing reassurance. It was just he was already on edge, so every little annoyance added up to his agitated state.

“Have a good time”, Alphonse said, smirking at him. His eyes then moved towards Andrew's, who immediately lowered them towards his own keyboard.

He had tried not to think about the fact that he'd have to be alone with Alphonse for as long as it would take for him to be done with his checks. He didn't think the other would really try anything funky while they were at work, but he couldn't trust him.

He tried his best to silence the voice in the back of his mind that screamed at him to get done as soon as possible and leave to get back home, but it wasn't like he had good reasons to feel like that. Nothing good had ensued from spending time with the other alone on previous occasions, and he had no reason to believe this would be an exception.

It didn't help that Angela had been particularly flirty in those days, frequently hinting at the reward that expected him from holding out until Sunday...

_Only three days left,_ he thought. He had refrained from touching himself, as he had promised her, and had tried his best from holding back from imagining what she might have in store for him. However he could do nothing to stop his dreams, and he couldn't help but feel like they'd been getting increasingly intense in the past days. He distinctly remembered Alphonse's head lifting up to glance up at him from between his thighs, lips wrapped around his cock, and that was when he woke up covered in sweat and with the most unbearable boner he'd had to deal with that week.

_This really doesn't help. Stop thinking about it._

“Wish me luck”, Derrick said before getting up from his desk, glancing back to wave at them as he walked towards the door.

_He better have the best damn date of his life,_ Andrew thought, grimacing as he saw the door close behind Derrick's back.

Concentrating on his job had never been so difficult for him.

He told himself all he had to do was pretend the other wasn't there, but that wasn't easy to do as everyone around them walked out of their office, one by one, eventually leaving the two of them completely alone.

There was no other sound in the room beyond the usual background noises, except for their typing and breathing, occasionally interrupted by a cough or the sound of one of their drawers opening, or by the scribbling of a pencil on paper.

All the while, Andrew told himself not to look up from his screen.

_Don't do it. Just don't._

He knew Alphonse was looking at him. He could _feel_ his eyes on his skin like a physical touch, and had to use all his willpower to keep himself from glancing up to meet them. His mind liked to wander too much already without needing any extra input from the other. He'd barely been able to sleep that night thanks to the man's visit in his dreams. 

He cursed as he had to go back to rewrite the same formula for the fourth time. The tension was driving him insane. There was no way he could focus like that.

_I've got to get out of here._

But he couldn't, not until he was done with his checks. He was almost there, and would have been done ages before the clock hour moved past seven if it wasn't for his nerves.

_I'm going to scream if I have to spend one more minute like this._

He almost wished he smoked, then he would have had an excuse to go outside and get some fresh air. Speaking of which, he suddenly realized Alphonse hadn't taken a smoke break since Derrick left, which sent his suspicion meter off the charts.

_Oh Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck... what the hell is he planning this time?!_

He knew the other was up to something. Was he even still working, or just pretending to? Maybe he was waiting for him to finish and planning to ambush him later, on the way to his car. Maybe he wasn't even going to wait, he would just pounce on him as soon as he looked up at him, hold him down and have his way with him right there on the desk...

His face heated up as his mind conjured a very graphic depiction of that scenario, his hands shaking so much he was barely able to type.

_I have to get out of here NOW._

It was no use. He couldn't get anything done like that anyway. He had to get out of there, somehow,  _anyhow,_ even if it was just to clear his head for a second.

He glanced aside towards the bathroom door. It wasn't the cleanest hideout, but it'd do in a pinch. He could lock himself in the stall and spend some time away from the other, and hopefully that'd be enough for him to calm down and go back to finishing his job, so he could be out of there and not have to deal with him until Friday. He would be safe then. Alphonse never was too open with his flirting around Derrick.

“I'll be right back”, he vaguely mumbled, getting up and making a run for it before the other could even reply. 

He almost fell on the tiled floor as he dashed inside, slipping on what he hoped was just spilled water. He managed to grasp on the edge of the sink and steady himself, panting as he glanced up at his own reflection.

_Man, I look terrible._

He hadn't realized how blatant the circles under his eyes had gotten, or how unusually pale his face was, albeit maybe the latter was simply due to his state in that moment. He turned on the faucet and dipped his hands in it, letting the cold water just run across his skin for a few moments before splashing his face with it, rubbing it with his fingers and combing his hair back before looking back into the mirror.

He wasn't looking any better, but at least he felt a bit more grounded now. Maybe he just needed a moment to himself, and then his heart would stop pounding so hard in his chest. He'd have feared he was having a heart attack if he hadn't experienced the same thing before, albeit on a very different occasion.

_I only need to collect myself for a second. It's gonna be fine. I've just gotta breathe_ , he told himself, turning to open the door leading to the toilet and walk inside. 

He could barely take a step forward before he was pushed in, stumbling forward and placing his hands on the wall to keep himself from slamming his face on it from the momentum.

He heard the door lock behind him and tried to turn around, but whoever had pushed him inside was quick to grasp on his arms and pull them against his body, stopping him in place. He did manage to turn his head, and his eyes locked with Alphonse's.

He almost wanted to laugh, a hysterical sort of laugh devoid of any real joy.

_Of course, who else could it be if not him?_

“What do you want?”, he asked, wishing his voice wouldn't shake so much.

Alphonse didn't reply, but he moved in closer until his whole body was pressed against Andrew's back.

His while body froze as he felt the man's erection pushing right against his butt. He cursed himself for asking, struggling to get out of that grasp, but that only made the other groan in pleasure. He realized with dread that each movement he made meant he was rubbing himself against him, and stopped in his tracks.

“I knew you couldn't wait for it anymore”, the other man whispered, straight into his ear. “Took you long enough to make up your mind. You could have picked a better place.”

“That's not why I came here!”, Andrew replied, appalled by those words. Did the other really think that he wanted it?

“My bad”, Alphonse said with a small laugh, one hand moving down to unzip the other's pants and slip under his underwear. “Guess that means you came here for a piss”.

“Don't touch- let me go!”. Andrew tried to push him off himself, grasping on his wrist with his now free hand to try and pull his one away from his cock. He gasped as the other squeezed down on it, giving it a few slow strokes. 

Much to his horror it didn't take long for it to start to swell up in the man's hand, growing harder with every touch.

“I'm just helping you out. Didn't you come here to pee?”, Alphonse asked, sarcasm clearly audible in his voice as his hand picked up the pace to bring him to full hardness. “Or maybe you came here to rub one out on your own while thinking of something like this?”.

“Alphonse, please”, he cried out, panting as his hand clenched around the other's wrist, desperately holding himself back from moving his hips to indulge into his touch. “S-stop it, I can't...”.

“You most definitely _can_. Otherwise you wouldn't be this hard”, the man said, still whispering against his ear before licking on it, nibbling on his earlobe.

Andrew couldn't hold back a small moan, shivering as his other arm was released and Alphonse's now free hand went up to his mouth, two of his fingers sliding past his lips.

“You know for someone who has accused me of forcing things on you, you keep saying an awful lot of _can't_ but I've yet to hear you say you don't _want_ this even once”, Alphonse noted, his tone growing lower and huskier as he started rubbing himself against him, his clothed erection sliding precisely against the cleft of his ass. His fingers slid in deeper inside Andrew's mouth, moving back and forth in an obscene fashion.

Andrew wanted to struggle but he didn't trust his body not to betray his instincts if he stopped holding himself as still as possible, whining helplessly against the other's fingers as some of his drool leaked down his chin, his cock twitching happily into the man's grip after being deprived for attention for almost a full week.

“Hno! Fhtop!”, he protested as Alphonse briefly paused to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants and underwear so that his ass was exposed. Andrew could feel every wrinkle of the man's pants against his exposed skin, and how much of his erection was straining against the fabric, begging to be set free.

“Sorry, I didn't quite catch it”, the other joked, pulling out his fingers and wiping them off on Andrew's shirt before moving his hand back to unzip his own fly, rummaging inside to finally pull out his own shaft before pressing himself against his body again. “Damn, you've got a mighty fine ass”.

“NO!”, Andrew yelled, resuming his struggles with renewed panic. He no longer cared if that meant he would be giving the other exactly what he wanted. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if he didn't get away from him right then.

“Don't worry, I wouldn't deflower you in such an undignified place. I'm not some kind of brute”, the other said in what was probably meant to be a reassuring tone. “Assuming that _would_ be your first time, of course. Has anyone ever given you a good pounding yet, Andrew?”.

“Fuck off!”, he growled, using his whole weight to try to throw himself back and slam him against the door, hoping to take him by surprise and to be able to make his escape then. Unfortunately for him Alphonse seemed to have expected that and pushed back just at the right moment, so the only thing he managed to do was to press himself against his length, which was nested between his buttocks. 

The man seemed amused by his attempt rather than angered or annoyed, and his hand went back to jerking him off with renewed enthusiasm.

“Maybe the lady's into that? She seems like the type who'd enjoy it”, he suggested, much to Andrew's annoyance.

“Don't speak of- _AH!_ ”, he cried out as the other's thumb brushed against the tip of his dick, closing his eyes as his body twitched and spasmed in response to those attentions. 

Much to his horror, he could feel his orgasm build up inside him like an avalanche. He had reached that point of no return where every little thing was bringing him closer and closer to the edge, from the man's warm breath against the nape of his neck to his teeth scraping lightly across his throat in the faintest hint of a bite, and there was nothing he could do to hold back as long as the man kept touching him like that.

“Ah! Wait!”, he gasped, turning his face towards him with a pleading look in his eyes. “I can't, I...nh! P-promised! I promised Angela I would... uhn! N-not cum! Until Sunday...”, he confessed, turning bright red from the humiliation of having to tell him something so private, but he couldn't let him do that. He knew he couldn't explain to Angela how he had failed to do as she had asked, and then she would get suspicious. Moreover, it seemed like that made what was already happening behind her back even worse. “S-so please! Aah! Please stop!”.

“How cute. You really want to do your best for her, don't you?”, Alphonse asked, his lips curving up in a small smile before he halted his movements. Andrew felt his heart swell up with relief, smiling back at him.

Then the man's lips crashed on his and he was pushed against the wall to their left, away from the toilet, so that the top half of his body was pressed between the other man's body and the cold surface in front of him. He could only squirm helplessly as that warm hand stroked his cock faster and faster, feeling his knees go weak as the kiss got deeper.

He came with a muffled cry against the other's mouth, bucking his hips and inadvertently rubbing his ass against his length, which seemed to be exactly what brought him to spurt his semen all over Andrew's backside. Some of the milky substance pooled up between his buttocks and leaked down to his perineum before Alphonse grasped on the edge of his underwear and pulled it back on.

The fabric was sticking to the cum smears in a way that made Andrew extremely uncomfortable, but his protests were still being silenced by the other's mouth. It seemed like an eternity before Alphonse finally pulled back from the kiss, leaving them both panting and gasping for breath.

Andrew opened his eyes, shivering at the intensity of the other's expression. He didn't even fight back when the other forced him to turn around and lean on him, holding him tightly into his arms. He only buried his face against his chest, listening to his heart. It was so loud that it almost covered up Alphonse's next words.

“Next time I cum, it will be inside you”, he promised, chuckling as Andrew froze up in shock. Then, without saying anything more he disentangled himself from that embrace and unlocked the door, walking out from there without waiting for a response.

Andrew stared at the now-open door, trembling as the reality of what just happened crashed down on him. He pushed his back against the wall, letting himself slide down on the floor before pulling his knees in and resting his face against them, arms wrapped around himself.

He didn't even cry. He just rocked back and forth on the spot as his mind refused to accept it.

It had to be another bad dream. It had to.

Unfortunately for him, if it really was... well, it seemed like it was one he wasn't going to wake up from.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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	13. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we learn that bathrooms are definitely evil and you never should go to one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to say earlier on but @ whoever sent me that anon ask about Alphonse and the mechanical bull: 

  
  


“So, how did it go with Susan?”.

Derrick glanced behind himself, probably to check that their boss wasn't around to sneak up on them like the previous day, then his expression relaxed and he moved in a bit closer to answer.

“I think it went... ok?”, he said, still sounding a bit nervous, but he seemed happy rather than terrified at least. “Next time we're going somewhere quieter, though. We could barely hear each other over the music”.

“Next time?”, Alphonse butted in, leaning forward and peeking from above the panel that separated their desks. “If she wants to see you again, I think it went more than _“ok” ,_ Derry”.

The younger man couldn't hold back a big smile at those words, one that lit up his whole face.

“I mean, I was the one who asked”, he quickly specified. “But she said yes”.

“You're already one step forward than I was on my first date”, noted Andrew, holding back the impulse to pat him on his shoulders.

“She said no?”, asked Derrick, wincing in sympathy. “That always sucks”.

“Oh no, actually I chickened out and didn't even ask”, he admitted with an embarrassed laugh. “ _She_ had to ask me eventually”.

He immediately regretted his words when Derrick raised an eyebrow and snorted back a laugh. He glanced back at his monitor, cursing himself for not keeping his mouth shut. He'd lowered his guard too much around the other, empathizing with his worries as he reminisced about his own feelings when he first had started dating Angela. Normally he wouldn't share that kind of personal details with his coworker, or other people in general, precisely because he knew what kind of reaction it would get.

“You've never been that good at saying what you want, have you?”, Alphonse teased him, which only added to his discomfort.

The other two probably thought he was pathetic. Not that it'd be the first time, but he didn't usually interact much with other people anyway. He didn't want those two to think less of him, also because he'd have to see them and talk to them everyday.

“I mean, it'd be kind of cool if chicks did that sort of thing more”, Derrick admitted. “Would save us a lot of stress for starters”.

_I just feared she'd only say yes to be nice to me,_ he thought. There was no way he'd say that to either of them, especially now. It'd be like digging his own grave.

It was bad enough to worry about Derrick looking down on him, but most importantly he didn't like feeling vulnerable in front of Alphonse.

Especially not after what happened the previous day.

“Well, when are you seeing her again?”, he asked, in the hope to distract himself as much as them.

“This weekend”, said Derrick. “I'm bringing her to the cinema. They're showing that one remake of that movie... you know, the Rutger Hauer one”.

“Ladyhawke?”, Andrew asked. He remembered seeing the original when he was young, but he wasn't sure the other had ever seen it. “Did she pick it or did you?”.

“Well I wanted to see Midnight Assassins at first but she thought it was kind of morbid, so I figured we might as well go for a romance flick to play it safe”.

Andrew was glad the focus was no longer on him. They all chatted a bit more before moving on with their work, knowing they only had until the evening to make sure everything was ready to submit to Stevenson for his evaluation.

Despite that, none of them seemed particularly nervous.

Andrew had managed to finish the checks that were left from the previous evening, without finding anything noteworthy to adjust at the last minute. Now he just had to wait for Derrick to finish doing the same before he could compare their data, along with Alphonse's. Finally, all three of them would need to decide what their final report should be focused on, prepare a rough draft and assign each other a different portion to complete, which was probably what would take the most time compared to the rest.

“Ugh, this is the worst part of our job”, groaned Derrick, pressing his forehead against the surface of his desk. “Why can't we just send him the tables? They're clear enough as it is!”.

“Not for a layman”, Alphonse noted. “I'm sure he'd be fine finding whatever info on them if it was just him, but he's going to have to present it to people who have no idea of where to even look. That's why he wants us to give him something that will put that information in context and give a general idea on it”.

That explanation shut Derrick up for approximately ten seconds.

“Why couldn't he make it himself?” he insisted. “He's never happy with how we write it anyway”,

“That might also have to do with the fact that you can't spell”, Andrew remarked, grimacing as he remembered that one time where Stevenson had yelled at Derrick for almost five minutes straight, exhausting all possible synonyms for the word “illiterate”, because the man had messed up all the verbs and written all the “you're” as “your”.

The other just shrugged. “If I studied math there's a reason!”.

Not that Andrew could fully blame him for hating reports. There was exactly one thing that he himself liked about them, and that was that it meant they'd be done with the project and would not have to work themselves to exhaustion anymore after that day.

Well, at least until the next one started.

  
  


“I'm done!”, Derrick announced several hours later, a mixture of triumph and relief in his voice. He remained seated at his desk for the time necessary to send his e-mail to the other two before standing up and stretching out, walking up behind Andrew to see how far along he was with his part.

“I'm just about done myself”, Alphonse chimed in. “In about five minutes, give or take.”

Andrew sighed, wishing he could have said the same.

“I've still got a bit more to do”, he said. “You two probably should go ahead, I'll just put it all together when I'm done and join you right after that”.

“Are you sure?”, Derrick asked, reluctantly. Andrew could tell the last thing the other wanted was to stay there any second longer, and he had no reason nor intent to hold him back. He'd probably focus even better if he was on his own.

“Yeah, I'll be right there, I think I should be done in less than a hour”, he replied, before turning his attention to Alphonse. “Don't let him get in trouble!”

“Can't celebrate a victory until it's done, right? We'll wait for you to get started”, noted Alphonse, much to Derrick's frustration.

“Beer doesn't count!”, he tried to argue, and Andrew shook his head. Hopefully after last time the other would be a bit more careful. If nothing else, just to avoid getting an earful from him again.

  
  


He'd been alone at his desk for over half an hour when finally he put the last word on his section, giving it a quick rereading to make sure he hadn't said anything absurd or left a bunch of typos in some part. Once he was sure it was fine, he saved it together with the other two in order to more easily combine them in a single report.

But first, he needed to go for a piss.

He'd been holding it up for the past fifteen minutes, telling himself he was practically done, so as soon as he was sure all he had to do was to put everything in a single file to print out for Stevenson and to send together with the tables, he all but darted towards the bathroom.

For a brief second he almost thought he had seen Alphonse standing there, jolting back and almost pissing himself as his whole body tensed up, before his eyes darted to that corner of the room to find that he was alone in there.

He unclenched his fingers from the door handle, taking a deep breath. He had thought his weird hallucinations had stopped for good up until then. Then again, after what happened the previous evening it wasn't surprising he'd be particularly antsy going back to that bathroom, especially after everyone else in the office was gone.

_It's ok. You'll be in and out before you know it, and he's not anywhere near,_ he told himself as he went into the stall, unable to fully shake off the feeling that something bad was going to happen to him.

He locked the door immediately, just in case, mostly to feel safer.

He had never hurried so much to take a leak, except when he was catching a train or something like that. He had just pulled up his zipper when he heard the door clicking behind him, freezing him in place.

_No!_

He whipped around to face the intruder, but no one else came in. He did think he caught a glimpse of someone's shoes from the crack under the door, but whoever had been there seemed to be gone.

Still, he was covered in cold sweat when his hand reached out for the key to unlock it – only to find that he could not.

Somehow, the key was gone.

“Alphonse!”, he called out, pulling and pushing on the handle, uselessly trying to force it open. “Alphonse for fuck's sake open the damn door!”. He slammed his hand against the hard surface, which reverberated from the impact but did not budge.

_Fuck!_

He had no doubt; the other man had to be the one behind that trick. He had no idea of how the hell he did that and he wasn't sure of the why either. Maybe just to fuck with him, or maybe – and that thought made his hair stand on end – to get them both to be alone in there after everyone left the office.

He hit the door again, panicking at the thought of being trapped there for as long as the other wanted. He had tried to tell himself before that it was unreasonable to be so fearful in his own office, but that was already the second time he had been proven wrong.

How did he even do that? And wasn't he gone? Did he come back from the bar just to do that? Maybe he had lied to Derrick, pretending to have left something behind...

_That's right, Derrick! I have to call Derrick!_

He wasn't sure of what he'd tell him but that was his only way out of there. His hand went to his pocket to grab his phone. He patted both pockets, and then the back ones, and even the one in his shirt, then the front ones again, but to no avail.

His phone wasn't there.

“Shit!”

He banged on the door until the side of his hands were sore, pain radiating through his arms, then he hit his forehead against it as he yelled in frustration.

He batted away the tears that were pricking up at the corner of his eyes as he resigned himself to wait. He was stuck there, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  
  


Almost two hours had passed when he finally heard movement behind the door. He felt like he'd been trapped in there for an eternity.

“Hey!”, he called out, banging on the door again. “I'm locked in! Please let me out!”

There was a small click before the door opened up in front of him. The gray-haired cleaning lady stared at him in confusion, but he did no t care. He was just glad to finally have a way out of there. 

“Thank you so much”, he said with the most polite smile he could manage, but he knew he probably looked like he had bad case of toothache.

He glanced at the set of keys in her hand, wondering exactly how difficult it had been for Alphonse to pull off his little stunt.

“Is that the only key for this bathroom?”.

“No, all the ones on this floor are the same. They open with the same key”, the woman replied, moving aside to let him pass. “Why?”.

_So it could not have been too hard for him to get his hands on one,_ he considered, walking towards the exit only to stop abruptly as his fingers touched the handle.

_What if he's right there?_

“Have you... is anyone else still in the office?”, he asked her, breaking out in a cold sweat as he awaited for her answer.

She shrugged. “Not a soul in sight, except you”.

He glanced at his wrist watch by instinct, but he didn't actually need it to know how late it was. The cleaning staff always came at the same time in the evening to take care of the bathrooms and the office, precisely because it was almost guaranteed to be empty.

Still feeling uneasy despite her answer, Andrew hurried outside to get back to his desk as soon as possible. He still had to print as well as send out the report, which was also still split in three. At that point he had no intention to even skim through the other two parts, he just wanted to be done with it and then leave right away.

Angela probably thought he was already out celebrating, so she wouldn't worry just yet, but Derrick was surely wondering where the hell he was. Then again, by that point he might have been too drunk to care. And God only knew what Alphonse was up to. Andrew didn't know what the man was planning, so it wasn't wise to stay there for too long.

_I'm going to fucking kill that bastard,_ he thought as he waited for the screen to come back to life and inserted his password.  _Thank fuck it's still in standby_ .

He could have sworn he had left the files open. Maybe the computer had restarted automatically.

He moved the mouse so that his pointer went straight towards the folder that he had created earlier-

Except there was no such folder.

_No..._

He rushed to look for the rest of the data, only to find out it was gone. All of it.

“FUCK!”

He clenched his hands and pressed the base of his palms against his closed eyes, trying to stay focused and think of a way to recover the information in time. Maybe the Recycle Bin had not been emptied. Maybe there was some other...

_The e-mails!_

He opened his eyes again and immediately clicked on the icon of his e-mail program, cursing under his breath as he waited for it to load.

“Come on come on come on, you can fucking do it, come on, hurry!” he hissed through gritted teeth. If he just downloaded Alphonse's and Derrick's parts again and found the draft he had sent them at some point to ask for feedback, he could have a chance to make it in time. He'd have to rewrite half of his part by memory, so it wouldn't be too good, but at this point he couldn't afford to be picky. It was a battle against time.

The sudden buzz of his phone startled him so much he nearly threw his mouse off the desk. He turned his head down and to the side, towards the office drawer, and sure enough his cellphone was laying there, the screen still lit up for a few seconds.

_Not now, Derrick!_

He glanced back at the screen again, scrolling down through his inbox with growing desperation. It quickly became evident that he wouldn't find anything in there either. The entirety of their e-mail exchange of that day was missing. Not only that but, as he went down further, it became increasingly clear that same was true for any past message related to their project.

He stared blankly at the screen without really seeing it for several minutes.

_We're fucked_ .

He wasn't angry or scared, not in that moment.

He felt numb and lightheaded, almost detached, like he wasn't even inside his own body but just a spectator while someone else was maneuvering it.

His phone buzzed again, and again.

He looked at it, his hand trembling as he reached out to pick it up. He didn't want to, but he knew that he had to.

The messages that Alphonse had sent him shook him awake like a cold shower, yet somehow were entirely predictable. They were accompanied by the photo of a flash drive.

Andrew's lips curled up into a humorless smile.

_But of course. Fucking bastard..._

He didn't even have the strength to be angry like he knew he should have been. It was almost as if, deep down, he had been expecting this all along. Like everything had been building up to that since the first moment he had met him.

He looked up at his monitor again, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as the full extent of what was about to happen dawned on him.

It wasn't like he had a choice.

The bastard had made sure of that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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	14. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is... kind of a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the deal: I couldn't find a way to split up this chapter properly. But I also couldn't post such a ridiculously long chapter in comparison to the others.
> 
> So, you're getting both parts today, but as two chapters, so that you can just read on if you want, and otherwise have an easier time keeping track of where you arrived.
> 
> -  
> Also it's been betaread but only by my non-native beta so if you find more mistakes than usual or the sentences are a bit clunkier, apologies in advance. I'll try to fix that up sometime in the future.

  
  


_\- ...I'll always love you and make you happy, if you will only say the same, but if you leave me and love another, you'll regr...-_

“Oh for fuck's sake!”. 

Andrew groaned and turned off the radio, clenching his fingers on the steering wheel while he stepped on the gas.

He was driving as fast as he could, glancing at the estimated time of arrival on the GPS every now and then. He'd never been in that area but he had a rough idea of how to get there. Still, he didn't have a lot of time left so he could not afford to get lost.

Finally, he reached the last turn before his destination.

He was not surprised to see a modest-sized Bed and Breakfast on the spot he was supposed to reach, but he still double checked on his messages in the faint hope he had been wrong.

“ _417 Hawthorne Street._

_Room 313, under the name LeFranc._

_Meet me in 30 minutes”_

He swallowed hard as his eyes darted back and forth between the time-stamp on the last message and the time displayed on the top right corner of his phone. Twelve minutes left.

Eleven by the time he turned off the ignition and unfastened his seat-belt.

Ten, as he worked up the courage to actually get out of there and walk up to the front desk, hoping the receptionist would not notice how much he was shivering, or the fact that he was covered in cold sweat.

“Good evening sir, can I help you?”, she asked him, maybe a bit too cheerfully. Could she tell something was off? Was he just overthinking it? 

“I'm just meeting someone, in room 313”, he said in the firmest tone he could manage, unable to meet her gaze. “Name's LeFranc”.

“Third floor, elevator is right there on the left, stairs are on the right”, she replied, and he did not wait a second longer before heading toward the staircase. He had no desire to risk getting trapped in a confined space again. 

Although that might have been preferable to being trapped in a room with the other man, now that he thought of it. Too bad he had no other option.

He checked his phone again. Five minutes.

He got up to the room, and by then he was down to four.

He stood there, unable to move as his mind screamed at him to get away and, simultaneously, to knock on the door before it was too late.

Three minutes.

Before he could do or say anything, it opened up in front of him and he found himself looking at the last person he would have wanted to see in that moment. He just stared at him, his heartbeat speeding up and his blood freezing

Alphonse stared back at him without a word, his expression unreadable. Then, he grasped on his shirt and pulled him inside, slamming the door shut before pushing him against it.

“Right on time... even early, in fact”, the man said, his free hand moving to stroke the other's face. “You couldn't wait anymore, huh?”

Andrew shivered at the touch, pushing him off and ignoring the wave of heat that traveled along his body at that small contact. He had to stay focused.

“Where is the report?”, he asked. The other placed his finger against his lips to silence him, but he immediately swatted his hand away. “Alphonse I swear to God...”

The other simply laughed in response, walking away from him and sitting down on the king-size bed.

“God cannot help you here”, he said, patting down the space next to him on the mattress. “Why don't we have a talk-”

“Where the fuck is that report, Alphonse?”, Andrew cut him off, glaring daggers at him. He had no intent to play along with his little games.

“The report? Weren't you going to send it?”, the man replied, feigning ignorance and shock. Only his sly smile betrayed his charade. “After all, we're gonna be in deep trouble if Stevenson doesn't have it for tomorrow.”

“You're gonna be fucked too if that happens!”, Andrew snapped at him, his exasperation growing by the second.

Alphonse laughed again.

“Maybe”, the man conceded, tilting his head as his smile widened. “But not before fucking you first”.

Andrew narrowed his eyes, holding back the barrage of insults that were rising to his lips. He didn't understand what the other was thinking. Was he really willing to go as far as to sabotage his own job?

“What do you want from me?”, he asked, although he already had a pretty good idea given their location, the other's words and all that had happened between them up until that point.

“I just told you, right now. I want to fuck you”, replied Alphonse, standing up from the bed and striding towards him, until he had him trapped against himself and the wall. “I'm tired of playing around. Isn't this why you came here too?”.

“I came because I don't want to be fired”, he hissed back at him, trying to slide away from the side before the other slammed his hand against the wall to stop him. His heart was beating so fast and loudly it was almost deafening. He had known right from the start what the other would want from him, but it was another thing to hear him say it outright.

“So this is a business trip”, the other joked, his fingers stroking Andrew's chin and lifting his head as he leaned in closer, until he was breathing right against him.

The smell was all that Andrew could focus on in that moment. That sickly-sweet scent... now he knew what it reminded him of. It smelled faintly like rotting fruit.

Alphonse's hand moved down his neck, at first gently, then pressing down on his throat as if to silently threaten him before he moved in for a kiss. This time, rather than going for it in full-force and letting him respond, he licked his lips and nibbled on them, barely brushing his own against them, as if he was waiting for him to make the first move.

“Don't...”, he protested, gasping as he felt the grip on his throat tighten enough to make him keenly aware of his own panicked breathing, the sound of it suddenly resonating inside him like gusts of wind. He wished he could say he felt nothing but terror, but the truth was that pressure was sending a rush of arousal through his body and his mind was reacting to that aggressive display with an almost instinctive urge to submit.

“Why did you come here, knowing what would happen?”, the man insisted, looking straight into his hazel eyes until Andrew couldn't hold his gaze any longer and lowered them.

“I had no choice”, he replied, knowing that the other wouldn't believe him anyway.

Alphonse smirked at him, loosening his grip before leaning down to whisper in his ear:

“You didn't even _try_ to call Derrick, did you?”

Andrew flinched at those words, eyes widening as he realized he had not heard anything from him yet, and he was supposed to be with Alphonse...

“Where is he?”, he asked, his voice rising from the panic. “What did you do to him?!”

The other man huffed.

“You're making me sound like a terrible person”, he said, feigning offense. “What did I ever do to you?”

Andrew squirmed away from him and took several steps back, looking at him as if he was insane.

“Are you fucking kidding- for starters, you're blackmailing me!”, he nearly yelled, unable to hold back the anger that had been building up until then.

Alphonse raised an eyebrow. “I did no such thing”, he noted, his lips curving back into a smirk again. “I never said you had to do anything, did I? I only gave you an excuse to come here all by yourself”. He walked back to the bed and took out his packet of cigarettes from his jacket to light one up before continuing. “You didn't even think of telling anyone else or even arguing against it. You just did as you were told, no questions asked. What a good boy”.

Andrew was shaking again, feeling like he was going to be sick. He was terrified, confused, ashamed and furious all at the same time. He felt like he was going to explode if he stayed there.

He marched towards the door only to stop in his tracks as he was right in front of it, clenching his hands into fists until his knuckles turned white.

He knew what would happen if he left. He hadn't dared to ask, but he didn't need to.

“It would be easier if you just stopped fighting it”, suggested Alphonse, blowing a puff of smoke towards him.

Andrew held his breath as he turned around to glare at him, torn between the urge to hit him and the primal instinct that told him to run away as fast as he could, while he still could.

“And what if I don't?”, he asked, cursing himself from the quiver in his voice.

He felt his stomach drop as the man's wicked smirk grew even wider.

“I'm going to enjoy it even more”.

Those words sent a cold shiver running down his spine, making his skin crawl.

“You sick bastard...”

He wished it was only in disgust, but the way his heart rushed as Alphonse stood up told him otherwise. The cigarette fell down on the floor and was promptly crushed by the man's foot as he stepped forward, making every alarm bell ring into Andrew's ears.

He darted towards the door but the other was quicker; his arms wrapped around him and held him there like a vice, fingers intertwining with his to keep his hands in place; his mouth was on his ear, licking and nibbling on his earlobe as Andrew whimpered and tried to pull in his shoulders to get away from it.

Alphonse chuckled softly, leaning in closer and sniffing his hair, pressing himself against the other man so that he could feel his growing arousal.

“Come to bed”, the man whispered, slowly releasing his hold except for one of his hands that was still tightly squeezing Andrew's.

“No!”, he protested, turning his head away as the other tried to kiss him. He didn't dare to move away, in fact he didn't dare to move at all. He was afraid that his body would not listen to him if he did, afraid of the growing heat inside him at every touch that should have been met with nothing but revulsion.

“Would you rather do it here?”. The man sounded amused, but also enticed at the idea. “I could have you crawling on all fours and fuck you like a bitch. Is that how you want it?”.

Andrew stiffened, turning his head back to glare at him and tell him off, but that was probably exactly what the other wanted. He could not escape from his kiss this time, and his attempts to push the other man off himself grew weaker with each passing second. He tried to fight the feelings rushing through him as the kiss deepened, his hands grasping on the other's shoulders to try and pull him away, but soon it was only to keep himself steady as his body relaxed against Alphonse's.

He felt like he was melting in the other's embrace, his fear and anger drowned out by a desperate, growing hunger for more of that heat and that taste. Maybe the other really was sick, and now he was infecting him with the same kind of crazy, or maybe he was right and he actually had wanted it all along.

He still had enough of his wits about him to freeze up at that thought, biting on the man's tongue until he could taste blood. Rather than get him to pull away however that only seemed to fire him up even more. Soon he could feel both hands move down on his ass as the other used his own weight to guide him towards the bed, forcing him to walk backwards until he was right at the edge.

Alphonse finally pulled back from the kiss, only to unceremoniously push him down against the mattress and climb on top of him. Before Andrew could even try to roll to the side and attempt to get away he was pinned down with one hand while the other one embarked on the task of unbuttoning his shirt.

“Get off me!”, he growled, bucking his hips to try and throw off the other's balance, but Alphonse's thighs clenched firmly against him.

“Don't worry, I'll be getting you off real soon”, the man replied with a leering grin.

He grimaced in response. “You're disgusting”.

“And you're aroused” Alphonse noted, tilting his head and pressing himself against his crotch, his grin growing wider as he saw Andrew's expression change as he quickly became aware of his own erection.

“N-no!”, he gasped, looking at him in horror. How could he be hard in that situation? The only thing he should have wanted to do with the other was to strangle him for jeopardizing his and Derrick's work.

“I know you've been thinking of me since the first time we met. It's been the same for me too”, the man confessed, finally getting rid of the last button before opening his shirt and taking it off from him, struggling to get the sleeves past his arms as Andrew refused to cooperate.

“I've had nothing but nightmares since then”, he hissed at him as he kept moving his arms to prevent him from undressing him, or at least to make it significantly more difficult for him to succeed. “I should have stayed away from you from the start”.

“You should have”, the other conceded. “Yet you did not”. He finally managed to yank away the edge of the sleeves which Andrew had been grasping onto as hard as he could. “Instead you keep edging closer and closer, like a moth to a flame”.

Andrew grasped on the sheet to try and cover himself with it, but Alphonse intercepted his gesture and pinned his hands down next to his head, leaning down to kiss his neck.

“No!”, he cried, shaking his head and writhing around; the other merely laid down on him, using his own weight to keep him still before one of his hands moved to grasp on his hair, pulling until Andrew was forced to keep his head up.

The man's mouth moved down along the side of his throat, licking and nibbling on his sensitive skin in a way that made him shiver and breathe rapidly, his now free hand clawing at the other's head to try and push him away.

He cried out again when he felt teeth; Alphonse was biting him hard enough to bruise him, without breaking the skin, and he was horrified to discover that it was making him grow even more aroused, his cock twitching under his clothes as the other's teeth sank into his neck.

“L-let me...ah!”, he gasped, his words cut off as the man's hand moved down to his chest, pinching one of his nipples. “S-stop fucking touching m-AH!”. He cried out louder as those fingers started to play with his rapidly puckering flesh, twisting and pulling on the hard tip.

His whole body shuddered in a mixture of pleasure and pain as Alphonse persisted in his ministrations, the man's head moving down towards his chest until his mouth latched onto the other nipple, suckling and nibbling on it until Andrew was reduced to a sobbing mess. He could not hold back his moans as the man tugged harder with both fingers and teeth, his back arching up as if to follow the other's movements. His free hand was still firmly holding onto his head, the other trapped by the man's iron grip.

“What is it you were trying to say?”, Alphonse mocked him, moving up to look at him with the most infuriating smug expression on his face. His black eyes were staring him down, as if daring him to make a sound, and Andrew could not bring himself to do anything but hold his breath and cower, unable to even break his gaze.

“Don't worry”, the other continued, his hands moving down to unfasten his trousers and unbuckle his belt while Andrew just laid there and trembled, paralyzed in fear. “I'm not going to do anything you don't already want me to do”.

“I-I don't...”, he tried to protest, but his words died down as the other narrowed his eyes in a silent threat.

If anyone had told him a single man could have the power to control him with a single gaze, he would have just laughed at them. Yet that was exactly what was happening. He couldn't explain why, but there was just something deeply unnerving about it, almost supernatural in nature.

Soon enough his pants were down to his ankles, soon followed by his boxers, and the other's hand closed down on his fully hard length. He gasped at that contact, glancing to the side as his shame finally overpowered his fear, unable to look into those soul-piercing eyes any longer. His hands grasped onto the sheets underneath him, his whole body heating up and flushing red as the man stroked his cock with an unbearable slow pace. Andrew could tell he was merely playing with him rather than trying to bring him to his climax, his fingers barely brushing against his skin.

“Alphonse...”, he murmured, closing his eyes as he felt his warm breath against his neck again, the man's body looming over him like a nightmarish creature. He felt incredibly small and powerless before him, and it was driving him mad. He hated himself far more than he could ever hate him for not being strong enough to go against his will – the other man's as well as his own.

Alphonse was right, he realized with dread. He did want him, maybe even more than he wanted to keep his job. It was no use telling himself that he had no way out of it, not when what he was forced to do just so happened to coincide precisely with what he secretly wanted.

“Please don't make me do this”, he begged, covering his own face in shame.

“Did you forget already? I'm blackmailing you”. Alphonse laughed at him and his hand stopped, fingers closing down almost painfully around his erection. “Choice is a hard burden to bear, isn't it? I can take that away from you”, he leaned down to whisper into his ear. “Doesn't that make it easier?”

Andrew was shaking again, unable to say a single word. He held his breath again as he felt the other move away, the bed creaking as his weight shifted on the mattress.

“Take off your clothes and get into the shower. We're gonna do this properly”.

He gasped as his hands were pulled away from his face, looking up into the man's firm gaze.

“I'm not _asking_ you, Andrew. Hurry up and do it, or I'll make you”.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to sit up and untie his shoelaces while Alphonse got up and watched him in silence, patiently waiting for him to be done.

Even if he was pretty much already naked, he felt his face heat up as he took off his shoes and socks, all too aware that the other was watching his every move. He had to fight back the urge to cover himself as he stood up, his eyes firmly staring towards the floor.

“If there's one thing one can't say is that your wife has bad taste”, noted Alphonse, chuckling as his words made him tense up on the spot. “You make such a cute couple, it's almost a shame to steal you away from her”.

“Stop talking about Angela!”, he snapped, his anger finally rushing back to him as he clenched his fists and glared at him, a mixture of shame and resentment rushing through him. The thought of his wife was probably the only thing that held him back from giving into his instincts at that point. He loved her too much to give into the temptation to just throw away his dignity and let him do everything he wanted with him.

He cursed the day their paths had crossed. If only he had never met him, if only he could have been ignorant to that kind of desperate longing, he never would have even thought possible to desire someone else beside her. Yet he didn't want Alphonse like he wanted her, no, the burning need that drove him towards him was an entirely different beast. He really did feel like a moth drawn towards the flames when he was around him.

While Angela was his everything, the one person that really had made his life worth living, the one that made him feel safe and strong and capable of almost anything, Alphonse was the exact opposite. His mere presence made him feel small and powerless, it threw everything that was certain about his life in disarray, it took his dreams and hopes and shattered them like the most fragile of glasses.

“Don't worry, you're doing this for her after all, aren't you?”, Alphonse teased him, walking up to him and holding him by his wrists. “Your work is important for your family, after all”.

“You're fucking sick”, Andrew hissed, seething in anger, but he couldn't bring himself to push him away. He could only follow him as the man lead him into the bathroom, sliding the door open for him.

He tried not to look as the other man undressed, but he just couldn't help it, just like he couldn't stop himself from comparing him to her. They were nothing alike, besides the obvious fact that he was staring at a man's body. He was as tall as she was small, as rough as she was soft, and there was just something off about him but he couldn't put his finger on it. If danger had a form, that was how it would look like.

His heart beat louder as the other kicked off his pants and underwear, throwing them to the side on the pile formed by the rest of his clothes. Alphonse stalked towards him with long strides and pushed him into the shower, cornering him against the walls before sliding the glass door behind them until they clicked together.

Andrew couldn't help but think back to the other day, where he'd already been confined into a small space much like that, and his fear only grew stronger. He had no way to go back, he knew the other wouldn't let him escape even if he tried to.

“You're so tense”, Alphonse whispered against his lips, closing their mouths together in a surprisingly gentle kiss. His hands rested on Andrew's shoulders as he pressed himself against him, pushing him against the wall. His skin was warm, contrasting with the coldness of the tiles against the smaller man's back, and Andrew could feel their erections brushing against each other, trapped between their bodies.

His eyes were closed as he responded to the kiss, his lips parting meekly and his tongue caressing Alphonse's with hesitation, his hands slowly unclenching as he rested the palms against the wall behind him, his fingers splaying open. His breath hitched as he felt the other's move down along his body, fingernails scraping lightly over his ribs. They moved down even lower, holding onto his hips and forcing him to move them forward to have easier access to his backside.

“Have you ever put something inside here?”, Alphonse asked him, briefly parting from the kiss as he cupped his ass. Andrew barely had the time to murmur a small “no” before his lips were occupied again.

Alphonse turned on the water, making him jump as the warm droplets suddenly hit his skin, then his hands moved back to rest on his hips again; his mouth trailed along his jawline and neck, tracing the side of his collarbone, down to his chest as he slowly started to kneel in front of him.

Andrew stared down at him, the thumping of his frantically beating heart mixing with the pitter-patter of the water falling all around and on them. The sound it made when it hit the glass walls reminded him of the rain hitting the window of the car after that dinner, and much like then he found himself unable to move, unable to scream, unable to stop his hips from swaying forward as his cock was engulfed by the other's mouth.

His hands grasped on the man's dark hair, trying to will himself to pull him off of himself, but all he could do was hold on tightly as the other worked his magic. He never would have imagined that getting a blowjob from another man could feel so good, nor that the sight of someone like Alphonse on his knees before him would arouse him so much. Even in that situation, he was looking back at him with the same intensity in his eyes, making him feel weak and powerless despite the fact that he was the one standing and getting his dick sucked.

_Fuck, this is bad,_ he thought, alarmed by how eagerly his body was reacting to his predicament.

What they were doing was wrong on so many levels he wouldn't even know where to start counting from, even if he couldn't do anything to stop it from happening it didn't mean it was okay for him to enjoy it.

“You're thinking too much again, aren't you”.

Alphonse pulled back from his length and grinned at him, flicking the tip of his cock with a finger. Andrew shuddered and yelped, much to the other's amusement.

“Turn around”.

It was not a request. He could tell from how the man's eyes narrowed and how his expression got firmer. Still, he didn't want to go along with it, not knowing what was in store for him.

“I'm not going to fuck you just yet”, Alphonse reassured him, holding onto his hips and trying to force him to do as he was told. “I'll be gentle with you... this time at least”.

“Fuck off”, he replied, before reluctantly forcing himself to face the tiled wall that was previously behind him, placing his hands in front of himself to keep his balance. He hated the idea of exposing his back to him like that, it was even more humiliating than he had feared. He was shaking like a leaf as the man's hands touched him again, spreading his ass cheeks open before burying his face between them.

Andrew gasped loudly as he felt something wet and soft against his anus, pressing his forehead on the tiles and closing his eyes. The man was licking him _right there_ and it felt nothing like anything he had ever experienced before. He hadn't even imagined his ass could be so sensitive, that he could ever be shivering in pleasure from something like that.

He had never understood the appeal of anal play before, it wasn't something he had ever tried with Angela and that included trying it on her. He just figured it was one of those things that only look good in porn.

When one of the man's hands moved to massage his balls, cradling them in its palm and softly squeezing them, he could no longer hold back from moaning. His asshole twitched helplessly as the other's tongue kept toying with it, at times even pushing past the small tensed-up ring to penetrate it with surprising ease.

Andrew cried out loud every time, trying to get away by moving closer to the wall only for Alphonse to hold him back with his other hand, fingers digging into the side of his hips that it was still holding.

“P-please, wait...”, he begged, even if he knew he was just trying to delay the inevitable. He wasn't ready for this to happen, he never would be, but it was just too much to even process.

Alphonse didn't listen, in fact he pushed his tongue in deeper, until he was practically keening and almost splayed across the wall, hips twitching with every movement of his tongue which seemed to slip further and further inside to a point where he'd have thought humanly impossible.

“Oh God...Ah!”, he whimpered, biting his lip to try and force himself to stay silent. He felt himself open up to him in the most shameful way, his body welcoming the intrusion rather than trying to force it out like he would have wanted to. It was like every fiber of his being was conspiring against his resolve to hold out and not give in to his desires.

“God has got nothing to do with this, trust me”, Alphonse said once he finally ceased his assault, chuckling as the man in front of him collapsed on his knees, unable to hold out any further. “Already at your limit? Oh, but I've only just begun”.

His hand moved up from his balls to caress the skin between his anus and his scrotum, pressing softly as his fingers moved back and forth, making him tremble in pleasure. One of them finally tried to push past his entrance, but his entire body tensed up in response and he hissed in discomfort.

“Still too early for that, huh?”, the man noted, and instead of insisting he got up and turned off the water. “Don't worry, I've got all the time I need to get you ready. Let's go to bed now”.

Andrew curled up on himself, wishing for nothing more than to disappear and wake up in his own bed with Angela, finding out it had all been just another one of his nightmares.

_This can't be happening._

“Don't make this more difficult than it has to be. You knew what would happen if you came here. It's too late to back out now”, Alphonse insisted, sighing loudly when he refused to move. He grasped one of his arms to pull him up, and when he still didn't comply he leaned down to whisper into his ear. “Did you forget _why_ you came here in the first place? Maybe you don't care about your job, but what about Derrick's?”.

Andrew turned his face to glare at him, standing up without a word.

“And you said you're not his friend”, Alphonse teased him. “I wonder if he would give up his ass to save yours, if he was in your place”.

“Stop fucking talking and just... just get done with it!”, he snapped, pulling his arm free and sliding the doors open to get out of there. He grabbed one of the towels resting on the nearby radiator and furiously patted himself dry with it, while the other followed him and proceeded to use the other in a much calmer fashion.

“Your conversation skills have certainly gotten worse since our first encounter”, the man noted, which got him another death glare as a response. “What a shame. I really enjoyed talking with you”.

_Maybe you could have thought about it before you started acting like a creep._

Andrew threw his own towel at him before marching out of the room, making a beeline for the bed. He had to get it over as quickly as possible, he decided. Just rip the Band-Aid off, so to speak, trying keep the part of himself that was way too eager over actually finding himself that situation at bay, and then never speak of it or even think of it again.

_Do you really think it's gonna be that easy?_

He did not, of course, but that was the only way he was going to get through it without going insane, or so he hoped. He knew there was no way for him to actually forget what was about to happen. He was about to cheat on his wife, with a man. A man that had been haunting his dreams for months, at that point, and who had already proven to him in more than one occasion that he was not just going to let him have his peace after getting what he wanted from him. No, it wasn't going to be easy at all, in fact it was going to be hell.

_But if you have a better plan, I'm all ears._

He did not. So that was the only thing he could do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My betareader noted this about the number 313 and I just _had_ to write it down here:
> 
> "Angel Number 313 is a message from your angels that the strong connection you have with the angelic realm and the Ascended Masters is assisting you with staying positive, light and optimistic about your life. Pay close attention to your intuition and inner-wisdom as you are being angelically guided towards the next steps along your path. Trust the messages and promptings and take positive action with confidence and enthusiasm. It is time to live your truths and express yourself with clarity, purpose, passion and love. Be a positive light to others."
> 
> *laughs 5ever*
> 
> \----
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> Feedback
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>   * Short comments
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> I usually reply to all comments (sooner or later)! If you do not wish to have your comment replied to for any reason, please add “hush” somewhere before or after your comment and I will silently appreciate it instead ^^


	15. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby, this is what you came for~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second part! 
> 
> This is a one-time exclusive double update, cause I didn't want to cut the sex scene in half. I'm not gonna be so mean ~~...yet~~.

Alphonse did not leave him to wait for much longer. He calmly walked out of the bathroom, his towel wrapped around his waist as he approached him.

Andrew looked up at him, swallowing hard. He was sitting on the bed, almost in the middle of it, and had to fight back the contrasting but equally persistent urges to pull him in towards himself to bridge the gap between them and to crawl back on the bed to get as far away as he could from him. Instead, he just waited with bated breath as the other merely observed him carefully, as if he was trying to read his emotions from his face.

“You're still in time to go back, you know”, Alphonse reminded him. “As long as you're prepared for the consequences, that is”.

“What a generous offer, but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to pass up”, he couldn't help but reply in a scathing tone. Which as usual only seemed to amuse the man before him.

“As you wish”, the man whispered, crawling onto the bed towards him. His hands went to his chest to push him until he was laying down on the mattress, but instead of getting on top of him he crawled past him to get to the nightstand, opening up the drawer and taking out a small black case.

Andrew eyed it with worry, not knowing what the other intended to do with it. Hopefully it was full of condoms.

Alphonse opened the case, but instead of condoms what he took out was a small plastic bottle full of what at first glance looked like water, except it was denser and slightly more cloudy.

Despite his inexperience in the matter, Andrew wasn't naive enough to not have an idea of what that was. He swallowed hard as he saw the other pour some of the lube into his hand before placing the bottle back inside the case.

“Turn around”, the man ordered him again.

He looked at him almost pleadingly, but the other's expression was unwavering.

Swallowing hard once again, Andrew, forced himself to roll on his side, trembling as he felt and heard the mattress creak underneath him while the other moved in closer.

His hands clenched on the sheets as he felt a hand grasp on his ass, pulling on one of his cheeks to expose the small pucker of his anus. He felt a warm wet pressure against it and instinctively tensed up, but the man's finger only circled around his entrance before pressing lightly against it, slowly coating it with the wet substance.

“Easy now...”, Alphonse cooed, leaning down to whisper into his ear and kiss the nape of his neck.

A choked sob escaped his lips, and he closed his eyes to try and shut himself out from his surroundings. Too bad that with his eyes closed, he had nothing else to focus but the increasing pressure against his entrance and the light touch of the other's lips on his back as Alphonse planted soft kisses all over it.

That unexpected gentleness was putting him on edge more than the man's usual rough behavior. It made his touch seem even more intimate than it already was, almost as if he was his lover rather than a victim of his machinations.

He could tell the bastard had no intent of rushing things, in fact it seemed like he was purposefully taking his sweet time, as if he wanted to make sure to use every moment at his disposal to torment him.

When the tip of Alphonse's finger finally pushed past his tensed-up hole he couldn't help but whimper in discomfort, albeit in a way that also made him feel relieved. Maybe he would be able to hold back from enjoying it, after all. As much as he was scared of the pain and the act per se, the thought of the humiliation he would feel from deriving pleasure from it was far worse. At least if he could keep his body from yielding against him, he would be able to conserve some of his pride intact. Or that was what he told himself, at least.

“Don't fight against it”, the man whispered, without pulling out his digit. He just kept it still as he tormented his ear with his mouth as if to distract him, his teeth grazing against his earlobe as he suckled on it for a few seconds, before licking along the shell of his ear.

Andrew pressed his face against the mattress and grunted as his fingers clenched down on the fabric of the sheets, his breath rising in volume and quickening its pace. He clenched up as he felt the other's finger slide in deeper by less than an inch, maybe not even half. He was determined to not allow his body to get used to the sensation, fearing he might actually start to feel pleasure from it like he did before from the man's tongue. If he could not defend himself against his assault, then all he could do was to try and not give him the satisfaction of seeing him enjoy it.

What he did not realize was that by doing that he was only slowing things down, making his torture last much longer than it would have been otherwise. By the time the other's whole finger had finally slipped inside him down to the last knuckle, Alphonse had been covering his shoulders in bitemarks, making him gasp and moan out loud every time the man's teeth sunk into his skin.

“Damn, you're so tight”, Alphonse noted, sounding way too pleased about it for Andrew's liking. “I can't way to feel your tight ass grasping on my cock”.

“D-did you learn this... hnn... kind of talk... from some cheap porno?”, he tried to mock him in response, desperately trying to hide the anxiety in his voice and most of all to ignore the not-fully-unpleasant shiver that had run down his spine at those words.

The man laughed at his response, his finger curling up inside him in a way that made him twitch and squeeze around it in a mixture of discomfort and something else that he wasn't entirely able to identify but that made him feel like a spark had coursed through his body.

“You can insult me all you want. I kind of like it actually”, the other confessed, his voice so low and husky it almost sounded like a purr, stirring yet more contrasting feelings inside of him. He wanted to recoil in horror but the truth was there was a part of him that couldn't help but feel a twinge of happiness and desire from hearing him say that.

“You really are perverse”, he replied, trying to muster up as much disgust as he could in his tone. His breath hitched as the other started pulling his finger out, little by little, only to slide it back in again with the same unbearable slowness.

He felt something wet and cold hit his ass and he nearly jolted away, but Alphonse held him down with his weight before he could even try to move. More lube had been spilled onto his body, just above the cleft of his ass so that it would slide down and help the man's finger move inside him with more ease. No matter how much he tried to force himself to clamp down on the insertion, his body was slowly getting used to it and, if that hadn't been enough, thanks to the added lubricant it was now too slippery to encounter much resistance in the first place.

“It feels so soft and warm inside you, it's almost a shame you never tried this on your own... or on someone else”, the other commented, pulling his finger out almost completely only to add a second one, which managed to get inside his tight passage with relative ease. “Then again, I do enjoy the thought of being your first”.

“A t-true romantic soul”, he retorted, unable to hold himself back. He couldn't stop him from doing whatever he wanted to him, he couldn't stop his own body from accepting his attentions, whether he liked it or not, and he couldn't stop himself from feeling more and more eager despite the shame and the guilt it brought to him, so all he had left to cling onto in order to preserve some pretense of dignity and fight back against the growing sense of helplessness was his snark.

“We could have gone with the whole wine and dine route, but I figured you wouldn't have been so cooperative in that case”, the man noted, waiting for his body to adjust to the new insertion before he started moving his fingers again, this time not just sliding them back and forth but also repeating that curling motion from before and sometimes spreading them apart ever so slightly, once again stirring the same odd feeling from before inside him. Somehow, his dick was growing harder again, and he was intensely aware of the fact that it was currently squeezed between his groin and the fabric of the sheet below him.

“I'd never l-let you touch me if I wasn't f-forced to”, he growled, his voice still shaking from the effort of holding himself back from letting out any more indecent sounds.

“Maybe so”, the other conceded. “Or maybe it's just what you need to hear yourself say to face yourself tomorrow, when you'll be back home to your beloved wife and kid after spending the night getting pounded by another man.”

“You fuck- _nngh!_ ”

Andrew tensed up and groaned as the man suddenly pushed his fingers in deep, almost getting him to moan out loud. He was picking up his pace, making sure to press on the same spot that was making him grow more and more restless with every thrust of his fingers, awakening that strange unknown feeling inside his body. It was almost like an itch, but pleasant rather than painful, and it made his hips twitch helplessly as his cock strained against the fabric underneath him. He could feel the precum leak out of the tip from the way it was spreading on the sheet, creating a small wet spot.

“Yeah, that's exactly the plan. Me fucking you”, Alphonse slyly remarked, punctuating his words with another particularly harsh thrust .“Seems like you're almost ready for it by now, don't you think?”.

“Go to Hell!”, he spat out, turning his head to glare at him. Not his wittiest retort, but that was all that Andrew could think of on the spot.

Much to his surprise, his words left the other speechless for a few seconds. Then the man's lips spread in the nastiest grin he had ever seen plastered on his face, twisting his normally unremarkable features into a grotesque mask of cruel joy.

“Not before dragging you there with me, my pet”.

The man's normally warm and alluring tone suddenly had a dangerous edge to it. Andrew felt compelled to lower his gaze, cowering in fear. A wave of shame washed over him as the other let out a small pleased sound at his reaction. It only grew stronger when the man's fingers were pulled out of him and he was unable to suppress a pang of longing at the sudden emptiness. A trembling sigh escaped his lips, his hole helplessly twitching in contact with the air which seemed so much colder after losing the warmth of the man's fingers.

He felt and heard the bed shift again; panic surged inside him as he realized the full extent of what was about to happen when the man crawled on top of him, leaning in close to press himself against him. Any lingering doubt about the other's intentions was ripped away from him as soon as he felt his erection press against the small of his back, right above his ass.

_No!_

He lurched forward, hands clawing at the edge of the mattress, pulling out the bottom sheet in his urgency as the other quickly lowered himself to lay against his body, squashing him with his weight to keep him in place.

He had thought he could put up with it by that point but he realized in that moment that he couldn't take it. Fear erupted inside him, crushing his tattering resolution and the dark desire it had been battling with.

“LET ME G- _mmpf!_ ”

His scream was cut off by the man's palm, his nose pinched between thumb and forefinger. His struggles became more frantic as he tried to suck in a breath through the man's grasp, his body squeezed firmly between Alphonse's and the bed. The man's thighs were pressed firmly on the outside of his legs, his feet anchoring down his ankles, and his free hand went to his throat and started pressing down until he was choking.

“I thought we were past this at this point”. Alphonse's voice was a low threatening growl, and there was no trace of mirth left in his tone. “As much as I find your pathetic attempts amusing, I'm starting to lose my patience”. His hand moved away from his mouth, allowing him to take in a large gulp of air before clamping down on it again, but this time leaving his nose free. “If you cooperate, we're both going to get what we want. If you don't... well, let's say you should hope to never find out. Understood?”.

Andrew whimpered as the pressure on his windpipe increased, terrified that the other might just crush it under his grasp. He already had good reasons to fear him, but he never believed he would be scared for his own life before. He didn't dare to move a muscle as the other carefully loosened his hold on him and lifted himself enough to allow him to move freely. His hand moved away from his mouth again but the other still lingered on his throat for a few more seconds, fingernails scraping against his soft skin as he slowly moved it to the side, resting it on his shoulder.

_So much for not doing anything I don't want to._

He closed his eyes as he felt him nuzzle his hair, inhaling deeply. He faintly wondered what he smelled like, to him. The other's scent had not been washed away from the previous shower, in fact if anything it had only gotten stronger. He faintly wondered if it would rub off on him, after that night. He had the most dreadful feeling that it would just seep into his skin, contaminating him like a disease. That he never would be able to wash it off from his body, forever tainted by his vileness.

His musings were interrupted as the other forced him to lift his hips, taking one of the pillows to their side to place it under his groin before pushing him down again. His legs were opened up a bit, then his buttocks, and he had to fight back the urge to make a dash for it again, remembering the other's threat.

More lube was poured directly between his cheeks, his hole clenching up in response to the sudden coldness, then the man pushed his fingers inside him again, coating his tight channel with the substance.

Andrew wrapped his arms around his own head and buried his face against his inner elbow, biting his lip and grunting as he felt him spread them apart, forcing his body to open up for him. It already felt like his asshole was stretching to its limit, he didn't dare to imagine how much it would hurt when the man would actually put his cock inside him – and the mere thought was maddening enough as it was.

Still, there was a brief moment where those fingers hit just the right spot, sending warm shivers through his entire body. He didn't know what it was, but he knew whatever it was, it couldn't be good. It was like nothing he ever felt before, and he was as scared of it as he was scared of the pain that was soon to come.

Finally he felt them slip out of him, but he knew that relief would be short-lived. He didn't even have the time to take a deep breath before he felt a different kind of pressure against his entrance, and he knew all-too-well what it was.

He braced himself for the pain, but it still didn't prepare him for the sheer overwhelming wrongness of the act, his body instinctively rejecting the intrusion but still helpless to stop it.

_Oh God!_

He'd have sworn he could feel every millimeter make its way past his already-impossibly stretched-out hole, sliding further and further inside him until finally the whole glans was swallowed up by his crevice, his whole body tensing up and shaking. He was sweating profusely and holding back tears, and it wasn't even halfway inside him.

“ _Fuck,_ you're so tight”, Alphonse gasped, his voice tense and almost vibrating from the pleasure. One of his hands was pressing down on Andrew's back, probably both to hold himself up and to make sure he wouldn't try to escape again. The other was used to guide his cock inside the narrow passage, and from the way the man's legs were flexing against his thighs, Andrew could tell he was holding himself back from just shoving his whole length in at once.

_Please_ , he almost cried out loud, but instead he only bit his lip harder. He knew the other wouldn't care, if anything he would either be amused by it and ignore it or so annoyed he might just snap and tear his ass open with his dick. He didn't know if it could actually happen, but it sure already felt like it would just split apart if it was forced to stretch open any more than it already was. It was insane. He had seen the man's cock before and it hadn't looked nearly as big as it _felt_. And that was just the _tip_.

“It's only going to hurt worse if you don't relax”, the man warned him, slowly resuming his assault.

Andrew only wanted to scream at those words. He knew it to be true, but there was no way he could relax in that situation. All he could do was try not to wail like a wounded creature as the man's length inched further and further inside him, filling him up in a way he would never have thought to even be physically possible. By the time it was halfway inside him he was already sobbing on his own arms, no longer even attempting to stop the tears that were now streaming down his face and forearm.

“It's going to feel good soon”, Alphonse promised him, once again stilling to give him time to adjust, and he couldn't hold back a scoff.

_Like hell it will._

It wasn't hurting as bad as it did at first but it still felt awful. He couldn't understand how anyone could possibly do that willingly, let alone derive any sort of pleasure from it. If there was any silver lining to it, it was that at least now he knew he never actually wanted to be fucked like that by him – or anyone else for that matter.

When Alphonse started pushing again he cursed through gritted teeth, unable to hold back a pained moan as the last inches were finally buried inside him up until the other's balls were resting against his perineum. He was so tense that his legs twitched, toes curled up, and his hands clenched on his arms, fingernails digging into his skin.

“Dude, relax”, the man told him, his now free hand moving to pet his hair. “I won't even be able to move like this”.

“Y-you f-fucking try t-to do that w-with a cock up y-your ass”, Andrew snapped, his frustration getting the best of him. He hadn't meant to provoke him but the combination of pain, discomfort and humiliation was making it hard for him to control himself.

Luckily for him, Alphonse seemed to be amused by it rather than angered.

“Who says I haven't tried”, the man responded, leaning down to hold him and resting his head above his shoulder. He stroked his hair again, his hand then descending on the nape and on his neck before moving back up, ruffling his hair.

Andrew didn't want to push his luck so he bit his already sore lip again to keep his mouth shut, his body stiffening even more from the man's touch at first. He waited anxiously for him to get back up and actually start fucking him, but the other just laid there on top of him, humming quietly to himself as he kept petting him.

As the minutes passed, Andrew's breath started to calm down. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of his breathing and trying to ignore the urge to lean into the other's oddly soothing touch. He was still all too well-aware of the cock nestled into his ass, there was really no way to ignore that. However, the initial tension was slowly subsiding and, as his body was starting to get used to the insertion, the pain was gradually decreasing into a mild discomfort.

“That's better”, Alphonse cooed, turning his head to kiss the top of his shoulder before lifting himself back up, the shift causing Andrew to wince as the man's cock was pulled back slightly by that movement. His hands clenched again as the man slowly started moving his hips, pulling out his length by no more than a inch before pushing it back in, and continuing in the same fashion for a while.

Andrew was breathing heavily again, but not as frantically as before. The man's shallow thrusts weren't enough to make him tense up as badly, either, but they still worried him and he didn't find any pleasure from them. As expected, the other wasn't satisfied with just that. He was only getting started. Bit by bit, his hips retreated more before pushing forward again, and his pace quickened. Some lube was added again to ease his motions, but this time the man smeared it directly onto his dick before thrusting it in, easily sliding into the still-tight hole.

If the slowly decreasing discomfort had been all that Andrew was feeling, he would have been able to put up with it without much of an issue, at least compared to the searing pain from earlier. However, the more it went on the more he became aware of a very different kind of sensation that was being stirred up inside him with every thrust, especially when the man's cock pushed inside him again hitting just the right spot. He didn't know what was up with it, but it made him increasingly nervous.

“Are you feeling it yet?”, Alphonse asked, as if he had sensed his worry. “You're being so quiet all of a sudden...”.

Andrew realized he had been holding his breath. He forced himself to inhale deeply and gradually exhale, repeating the action in the hope to clear his head. His inner muscles clenched up again in response to a particularly harsh thrust, and a soft cry escaped his lips. Yet rather than pain, the sensation that radiated from his insides was a lot more like the kind he would get from scratching an itch, except it sent a warm tingling sensation straight to his own cock, the weirdly pleasurable feeling spreading in his core in waves.

“W-what...”, he whispered, his voice breathy and tinged with concern. “Wait...AH!”. There was another push, this time hitting straight into _that_ spot, and suddenly it was like his vision blacked out for a second and sparks lit up in his eyes, his senses obliterated except for the concentrated heat radiating from somewhere deep inside his groin and washing over him, leaving him breathless. “A-Alphonse wait n-NHH!”. Another wave of that indescribable feeling struck him like lightning, his whole body quivering before falling limp like a lifeless puppet.

“There we go”. The man's breath was hitting his neck as he spoke, giving him goosebumps. He felt incredibly aware of every inch of his own skin and every little sensation seemed amplified, as if his sense of touch had been amped up to eleven. “I'm going to teach you a kind of pleasure that you'll never forget”

He felt a surge of panic as the other shifted and pulled out almost completely from him, one hand grasping on his hips to force him to raise them up slightly. He realized that, at that angle, the other's cock would be hitting him _just right_ , much like when he did the same with Angela while fucking her doggy-style.

“No no no, wait, stop!”, he protested, his desperation rising together with his voice. “Alphonse please don't! I ca- _AAAH!_ ”.

Heat exploded into his loins, flushing through his whole body like a current and overpowering his senses. For a moment he could not even hear himself screaming, his ears buzzing with the sound of his blood thrumming through his veins. When it finally waned he was left shivering and gasping for air, his arms outstretched as if to try to grasp onto something, anything to steady himself and keep himself afloat.

“Fuck, you feel so good... I can't hold back any longer”, Alphonse confessed. Andrew barely had the time to register his words, his mind still foggy and drained of the wits necessary to even form a retort while the man's arm wrapped around his chest from underneath his armpit and his other hand was planted against the mattress on the opposite side of his face. Then, his hips slammed down again and again, faster and faster, and soon Andrew was screaming and spasming underneath him, despair welling up inside him together with that strange pleasure that mercilessly assaulted his senses.

His mind couldn't accept what was happening, but his own body wasn't listening. His own hips were swinging to meet the man's thrusts, his back arching up every time the other's cock struck that magic switch that was driving him insane with need as he felt his own climax build up, all of his senses concentrated solely on that pleasure and on how to get more of it, thrusting himself backwards to spear his ass on the man's dick with increasing urgency.

Alphonse was talking again, murmuring something about him being tight and warm and so fucking good, but Andrew was unable to focus on anything the other was saying. His mind was adrift in that sea of blissful sensations, his orgasm drawing nearer and nearer in stormy tides that swept away every last ounce of his previous shame and guilt.

He felt like he was right at the edge and yet it just kept building up more and more, like when Angela forced him to hold back to tease him except much stronger, spreading through his whole groin and coursing through his body rather than concentrating just on his erection. His cock wasn't even touching the pillow anymore, the tip barely brushing against the fabric every now and then, yet it was rock hard and pulsating and dripping with precum as if he'd been jerking off like a madman.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of never-ending ecstasy mixed with the most intense and maddening _need_ , the pleasure exploded in him in waves, fingers twitching and hips convulsing as if he'd been shook by a seizure as he keened until all air had escaped his lungs, leaving him breathless. He could feel himself emptying out on the bed in such a long and continuous stream he almost thought he'd just pissed himself, his cum shooting out all over the pillow and sheets so violently that a few sprays even hit his own chest and abdomen from the sheer force of his ejaculation.

When it finally stopped, he fell over limply as if he had been drained of all of his energy, vaguely aware of the splatting sound he made as he hit the fabric, which was soaked with own wet load as well as the sweat he was covered in. He almost felt as if his soul had escaped his body through his dick, his mind fully blank. He was still shook by small spasms from the aftershock of his orgasm, small whimpers escaping his lips as he quivered against the sheets.

A sudden movement behind him reminded him that he wasn't alone – he was so lost to his own pleasure that he had nearly forgotten Alphonse was even there. He gasped as he felt the man's softening cock being pulled out from him, warm shivers running through his body until the whole thing slipped out of his hole, which was now opened up and contracting as if it was still trying to grip on it.

“My cock fits perfectly inside you”, the man purred against him, nuzzling his cheek. “It's like your body was made for me to fuck it. It felt amazing, didn't it?”

Andrew would have sneered at him, if he had been able to keep his wits about himself. Instead, he was only just beginning to process what had just happened to him, or rather what the other had just done to him... and what he had done, too, in the heat of the moment.

Shame and confusion were the first two emotions to resurface, but his mind was still too numbed out for them to affect him as deeply as they would have before. He was also exhausted from the whole ordeal, both physically and mentally, and the afterglow of the orgasm was making him so drowsy that all he wanted was to lay down and forget everything instead of dealing with it.

Alphonse moved to his side, pulling him into a tight embrace. Andrew didn't fight it, he had no strength to do so and the contact felt so warm and welcoming he couldn't help but lean in and bury his face against the other's chest as if in search of reassurance, closing his eyes and listening to the man's heartbeat. His sweat and semen were sticking to his skin in a way that would have driven him mad if he had been fully awake, but in his current state he just couldn't bring himself too care. His limbs felt as weak as jelly, he could barely place his arm so that it fell limply against the man's body, so getting up and washing himself was out of the question.

He was already starting to doze off when Alphonse forced him to look up and moved in to kiss him. Even in his grogginess his heart raced up and his face flushed, and he mustered up the effort to kiss him back, moaning softly into his mouth as he felt a light touch against his stiffened nipples.

Alphonse's hand moved lower, sneaking past his legs to caress his buttocks, giving a possessive squeeze to one of them. That gesture should have annoyed him, but his fogged-up brain wasn't able to conjure anything stronger than a mild indignation that was immediately drowned out by the instinctive rush of excited delight it stirred in him, or at least in the part of him that couldn't help but desperately want and be wanted by the other man.

When the other's fingers slipped inside his still oversensitive hole Andrew cried out loudly, pulling back from the kiss to beg him for mercy, only to be silenced again by his lips and his tongue before he could even start to protest, the man's other hand moving from his shoulder to the back of his head to hold him in place. Andrew twitched and shuddered against him as he felt those fingers twist around and dig deep inside him, his heightened sensitivity making that stimulation feel almost painful. Thankfully it did not last for long, as Alphonse finally seemed content with his efforts and slowly pulled them out again, withdrawing from the kiss to show him a particularly self-satisfied grin.

Andrew didn't understand the reason for it until he felt something warm and slippery slowly leaking out of him, his whole face flushing bright red as he realized it was the other man's cum.

“I told you next time I'd be cumming inside you, didn't I?”

The man's eyes were staring at him as if they could swallow him whole, and that was exactly how Andrew felt. The fear sparked by that memory, his hesitation, his will to protest and to resist his advances, they all had been drained from him leaving nothing but uncertainty and weakness.

“You'll never be able to get the same pleasure from anyone else”, Alphonse promised him, his tone firm and resolute. “You won't be able to resist me for long, either.”

Even in his daze, those words still sent a shiver down his spine. Andrew couldn't bring himself to look away, still he managed to whisper:

“You forced me, I never wanted to...”

His words died down in his throat at the sound of the other's mocking laughter.

“You're mine, Andrew. I'm only taking what rightfully belongs to me”, was the man's only reply, before those lips captured his again in a rougher, more domineering kiss as if to demonstrate his point.

Andrew stiffened and, for a moment, he did resist his instinctive urge to respond to it. His resolve did not last long however. As soon as the man's hand grasped on his hair, holding it firmly, it was like a flip inside him was switched. His lips parted, his shoulders relaxed and his whole body fell limply against his like a wet noodle.

When Alphonse interrupted the contact he couldn't help but try to follow his movement, but the man tightened his grasp as if to warn him. He didn't need to say anything, his eyes and his smirk said it all.

Andrew knew he should have felt ashamed of himself for giving in, but the small act of rebellion from before had taken up all the willpower he had left. He was even more tired than before and completely spent in both body and mind, utterly helpless to resist him - or the urge that drove him towards him - in any way.

“You'll sleep here beside me”.

It wasn't a request, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway. He was barely able to keep his eyes open any longer, so when the other held him close and pulled up the sheets to cover them both, it was only a matter of seconds before he collapsed into his arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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	16. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Alphonse is an asshole
> 
> ...so basically like any other chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tfw chapters stop having any consistent length
> 
> ~~I am trying to fix this in the newer ones. This is what happens when you attempt to write things as one single batch and cut it up later~~

 

The light of the morning peered through the shutters, and Andrew stirred in his sleep. His hand moved to seek the nearest source of warmth and he moved in close, resting his leg against the sleeping form next to him. A warm hand caressed his cheek and his hair, and he smiled sheepishly.

He had slept so well... it was the first time in weeks his sleep hadn't been plagued by nightmares. He definitely had no urge to get up the one time he could actually enjoy his rest.

“Good morning angel”, he murmured, his eyes still closed.

There was a small chuckle from the other. An oddly low-pitched one.

Andrew opened his eyes, confused, expecting to meet his wife's green ones.

“Interesting choice of nickname”, commented the man in front of him, his black eyes half-opened to look at him in amusement.

Andrew darted backwards so quickly he nearly fell off the bed, his head turning every which way as he threw glances all around his unfamiliar surroundings. Suddenly the events of the previous night came rushing back to him like a cold shower, and both his eyes and mouth opened in a horrified expression.

“No...”.

“You slept like a log. You didn't even wake up when your phone rang”, Alphonse noted, which only added to his fear. The man gestured towards the nightstand closest to Andrew, where his cellphone was laid down as it charged. It seemed the other had attached it to the charger overnight, which he would have been grateful for in another situation, but right now the only reason he wasn't yelling at him was that he was too busy being terrified of what Angela would have thought not seeing him come back home.

_She must be worried sick!_

He immediately unlocked the screen, only to freeze as he saw the time on the display.

_13:43... no! the report!_

“You son of a bitch!”.

He whipped around to glare at Alphonse, who tilted his head and looked at him in confusion.

“What is it, is she mad you spent the night out?”, the man asked, one corner of his lips rising up in a lopsided smile.

“We had to submit the report by 8 AM! It was supposed to be there before Mr. Stevenson could even get in his office!”, he yelled, his hands balling up into fists.

Alphonse still looked at him like he had no idea of what he was getting at.

“So?”

Andrew couldn't believe his ears. He resisted the urge to charge at him only because he knew what the other was capable of, and the last thing he wanted was to be stuck in a lock while both of them were naked, especially after what...

He pushed the thought out of his mind before he could even complete it, his face turning red from the anger and humiliation as he looked away. It had been all for nothing. The bastard had gotten what he wanted from him, and now he would still be fucked, and Derrick...

_Oh God, how am I going to explain this to Derrick?_

As unreliable as the guy could have been sometimes, if there was one thing he never would have done was to put his job at risk. He couldn't believe Alphonse could have done such a thing to him, to all of them.

He was shaking as he turned to throw him a scathing look, fingernails digging into his palms.

“Where is that fucking report, Alphonse?”.

“On Mr. Stevenson's desk, of course”.

Andrew was ready to chew him out, so his response caught him completely off guard. He blinked a few times, his expression changing into a puzzled one.

“...is this a joke?”, he asked, his tone still seething with rage. “And when the fuck would you have brought it there? Besides he also had to receive the data by e-mail...”.

Alphonse shrugged. “Yesterday evening, before coming here”.

Andrew opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again.

_He couldn't... he didn't really just say that... did he?_

“You were taking a long time, so I told Derrick we'd just all go out together as soon as you came back from vacation to celebrate and brought him home, then got back to the office”, the man continued, seemingly unperturbed by his reaction. “I put it together and fixed it up while you were in the bathroom, then I sent out the data and brought the report to his office”.

_No..._

“Bullshit”, Andrew snapped, refusing to believe what he was hearing. “When I got back it was all gone, you fucking piece of shit, there wasn't even any trace left!”

“It really isn't wise to leave sensitive data out there in the open. Besides, you'd have no use for it anymore.”, the other commented before his lips curved up in a smirk. “Really, if you just had checked in his office you would have seen it and would have had no reason to get so worked up in the first place. But you didn't. Panic got the best of you, didn't it?”.

Andrew turned pale, slowly realizing just what the other was meaning, as well as what really happened afterwards.

_I played right into his hands._

The man's smirk grew even wider.

“You really shouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions”.

_You sack of..._

He didn't even stop to think before launching himself at him, his fist colliding with that irritatingly smug face.

Alphonse didn't even flinch, nor did his expression change. His face had turned from the impact, so he moved it back to glance at him as he brought one hand to massage his chin and his bruised lip, licking the blood off of it.

“Am I really the one you should be angry at?”, he calmly asked, leaning closer towards him. “You were quick to believe I would be blackmailing you, so quick you didn't even stop to question me once. You didn't even get me to promise I'd give anything back to you, or even that I'd guarantee it would be where it should have in time. No, instead you just had your whole scene play up exactly as you expected it to, the perfect opportunity to ensure you'd have precisely no other option but to do just what you so conveniently wanted in the first place”. He paused, his eyes narrowing as his tone grew harsher. “If anything, I did you a favor. You got to enjoy yourself without being bothered by needless things such as having to take responsibility for your actions or having to choose to give in to temptation. And you had the nerve to say that I forced you. Well, I certainly didn't force you to scream in pleasure while I fucked your pretty little ass until you...”

“SHUT UP!”.

Andrew threw his fist at him again, but this time the man caught his arm and twisted it behind his back, making him cry out in pain. He was pulling so hard it felt as if it was going to come off, and no matter how hard he struggled he couldn't get away from his grasp, the other's free hand moving to grasp on his throat until he could barely breathe.

“I've been really patient with you so far, Andrew. If you thought what I did was bad, well it's nothing compared to what I _could_ do”, the man hissed into his ear before licking at it, sending a cold chill down his spine. “Besides, I'm sure your dear _wife_ has been wondering what you've been up to all this time. I would hate to keep you away from her any longer. Wouldn't want her to get suspicious, right Andy?”.

Andrew gritted his teeth, but his rage had been outweighed by fear and worry, in part due to the threat but mostly at the thought of Angela not seeing him come back and not hearing anything from him. Would she be worried, angry, maybe both? Could she possibly have gotten suspicious? She was more rational than him, not as prone to jealousy nor insecurity, but he had never disappeared on her without telling her when he'd be back. It wasn't like him. Would it be enough to bring up questions he wouldn't be prepared to answer? And what was he even supposed to tell her? He had never lied to her before and he didn't know if he would even be capable to do it.

“You fucking bastard... you're gonna pay for this”, he cursed in a strangled voice, but the threat sounded empty even to himself.

Alphonse merely chuckled in response, releasing his hold and watching as he fell down to the bed, scrambling to get away from him and get back to his phone.

“Send my regards to the missus”.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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> 
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>   * Questions, requests or suggestions
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> I usually reply to all comments (sooner or later)! If you do not wish to have your comment replied to for any reason, please add “hush” somewhere before or after your comment and I will silently appreciate it instead ^^


	17. A Tale of Forced Adultery - pt17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Andrew have some nice quiet time without Alphonse around?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of the first part of Please Don’t Take My Sunshine: A Tale of Forced Adultery! I was not expecting to get here already, as I did not realize that when editing the last chapter.

  


“ Are you sure we shouldn't call him?”

Angela made a small huffing sound as she glanced up at her husband, moving her arm across the table to place her hand on his.

“ He said  _ he'd _ call if there was any problem, remember?”, she said, using her thumb to caress the back of his hand. 

“ I know, I know it's just...”. He sighed. 

“ ...you're still worried” she concluded, shaking her head with a small smile. “Remember why we came here?”

“ To eat the best food in all of Florence?”, he joked, repeating the words of their hotel's bellhop. 

Her smile widened a bit. “That too. But what I mean is that we came here to relax, and spend some time without having to think about anyone else”. 

“ I'll try my best”, he replied with a nervous smile, and she raised one eyebrow.

Suddenly, he felt something brushing against his ankle. He didn't have to look down to realize it was her shoe, especially as he felt it move up along his leg, making his blood rush to his face and, to a smaller extent, towards his groin. He gulped nervously, glancing around to make sure no one else was watching.

“ What did I just say?”, she noted, her voice lowering slightly as her lips curved in a mischievous smile as he looked back to her. “What should I do to make sure I have your full attention?”.

Andrew slipped two fingers in the collar of his shirt as if to loosen it up a bit, suddenly feeling like his tie was too tight around his neck. Her foot was rising up further and his face flushed red as it went past his knee. He was sure the tablecloth wasn't long enough to fully cover the view, and if anyone had been watching them...

“ Have you been a good boy this week?”, she asked, her eyes locking into his as the tip of her heeled shoe pressed gently against his crotch. 

Andrew felt a surge of shame and guilt at her words, the events of the previous two days rushing back to his mind. She tsked and shook her head again, looking more incredulous than disappointed.

“ You really couldn't hold yourself back?”. The pressure against his crotch increased, humiliation and embarrassment adding to the mix of emotions that brought him to look down on his plate as the front of his pants started to feel uncomfortably tight. “You really must have been stressed. But that still means you'll get no reward”.

“ I'm sorry”, he murmured, unable to look at her as he thought about Alphonse's words. No matter how much he reminded himself that he had really thought he had no choice, that he would never have done anything like that under any other circumstance, he still couldn't help but ask himself what she would say if she knew. 

He wanted to think she wouldn't blame him if she knew he had no control over what happened, but a small nasty voice in the back of his head whispered that maybe she wouldn't have been quite so sympathetic if she had seen the way he shook his ass and screamed in pleasure as the other pounded him.

“ Ah, the waiter's coming”, she whispered, and her foot fell back down on the floor, much to his relief. His hard-on had had made him completely forget what he had intended to eat, so he was caught off-guard as the tan man approached them and asked for their order.

“ I'll have... uhm...”, Andrew looked back at the menu. “The  _ crostini misti _ ? For both of us?”, he glanced at Angela, who gave him a curt nod. “So, two of that. Then... I'll get the  _ ribollita _ and the Florentine steak”. 

“ Very good”, the man replied in a heavy accented voice, before turning to Angela. “And for the lady?”

“ I'll have the  _ lampredotto _ and a salad”.

Andrew grimaced, waiting until the waiter had left before commenting.

“ Isn't that like stomach?”. He was pretty sure he had read something like that in the description. Maybe she hadn't noticed? She didn't seem even slightly shocked by hearing that so she must have known.

She tilted her head a bit, with a small grin.

“ Not feeling adventurous?”.

_ I've had way too much adventure in the last days _ , he thought, but of course he couldn't tell her that.

“ I like to make sure I enjoy what I get”, he said. “Especially when I'm paying”.

“ I like to try new things”, she replied “And  _ I  _ am paying tonight”.

Andrew decided to ignore that last part and leave the discussion about who was paying to be dealt with after the dessert. 

“ I'm never bringing you to China”, he joked, feigning horror. To be fair, he wasn't completely sure she  _ wouldn't _ try to eat a dog. He preferred not to think too much about that, especially when he was waiting for his dinner. He would have liked to keep it in his stomach.

  


By the time they got back to the hotel, slightly tipsy from the several glasses of wine they both had ordered, Andrew felt satisfied but also quite exhausted. 

They had taken the plane on Saturday evening, arriving at the airport in Florence in the late morning, and then they still had to take a taxi to arrive to the hotel before they could finally leave their luggage there.

They initially had planned a short trip around the city for the first day, but they hadn't taken into account just how tiresome the travel would be even if they didn't have to do much beside sit down and wait. Andrew didn't know how much Angela had slept, but between the stress from the events of those last days and the anxiety of flying for so long and after never having stepped on a plane for a few years he had slept horribly, waking up at every sudden noise feeling certain that the plane was about to crash.

As a result, as soon as they first arrived in their room Andrew had let himself fall on the bed and laid there motionless for a good half-an-hour without even taking off his coat, while Angela had dashed to the bathroom and stayed there for roughly the same time, recommending him to not get in there for a while once she got out.

Neither of them had any intention to get walking anytime soon so they had decided to scrap their initial plans, get settled in, take it easy and maybe grab a bite in the evening.

“ This place is amazing. There's even a bathtub in our bathroom”, Angela had remarked. 

“ It better be, with how much it costed us”, Andrew had noted with a huff. 

They had spent a small fortune and he still was not sure they should have gone all out like that, but it was the first time he went somewhere alone with Angela since they got married and she had been so enthusiastic about the idea of seeing the Uffizi Gallery with her own eyes, plus her work had been going really well. She had pretty much paid their plane tickets almost entirely by her own pocket.

“ I'm going to take a bath before dinner”, she had announced later that afternoon. “Do you want to join in?”

“ I'll just take a shower later”. He shrugged, trying to sound neutral, but in truth he was anxious about letting her see his body. He couldn't help but fear that she might be able to tell. That he still would be carrying his smell on his skin, that maybe some of his filth still lingered inside of him. 

He had tried to wash it off of himself, scrubbing until his skin was bright red. He even had scraped it out – 

He shuddered and quickly pushed that thought out of his head. He didn't want to let his mind linger on that memory. He didn't even want to remember. If only he could forget it all, it would have been so much easier to ignore the guilt that had been gnawing at him for the whole day.

Plus there were the marks... or, well, there  _ had been.  _

He was sure he had seen them. Bright red bite-marks, all over his neck. Bruises and scratches on his arms. Everywhere Alphonse had touched, he had left a sign of his passage. He remembered holding back the urge to punch the mirror as he got out of the shower, the previous morning. Or rather, mid-day by that point.

He had been stressing out the whole time as he drove back home, wondering how in hell he was going to hide them from Angela. 

Except there actually was nothing to hide, as he found out while he was changing himself to go to the airport. He had stripped down to his underwear and spent a good fifteen minutes examining every inch of his body, wondering if the man's antics had finally driven him insane because his tan skin was as spotless as it always had been.

He guessed he must have imagined them, much like he had occasionally been imagining his presence. Except he had thought his hallucinations had stopped by then.

Then again, nothing had been going the way he hoped it would lately, so why would that be any different, he told himself bitterly.

“ You could still keep me company”, she insisted, grasping on his arm and pushing herself against him. “Please”.

She rarely ever asked him something like that, almost desperately. He couldn't possibly deny her. He kind of wondered if that was on purpose, but he didn't care. He would have given her anything she could want in that moment.

“ I can't even remember the last time I took a bath”, she said, her voice almost vibrating with excitement. She had stripped down with no hesitation, waiting for the bathtub to fill up completely, and he had to keep himself from ogling. 

There wasn't anything sexual in that situation, he could tell from the way she acted around him. She always had a way of letting him know when she wanted him, even without saying a single word. That wasn't the case there. She only wanted to enjoy his presence, and to tell the truth he was kind of relieved. Sex was the last thing he wanted to think about in that moment.

He brushed off his instincts and sat down next to her as she climbed in, letting out a pleased sigh once she laid down under the steamy water. 

“ Aw, fuck, I  _ really  _ needed this”, she murmured, closing her eyes before slipping down underwater, re-emerging after a a worrying amount of time. She smiled at him, seeing the concern in his expression. “Thank you”

“ For what?”. He blinked in confusion.

“ For coming here with me. I'm glad to have you all for myself for once”, she admitted, swishing her legs in the water until some of it splashed outside. “I've missed this. Just being alone with you, like this”.

He smiled back at her, fighting the urge to pull her into a tight hug. Mainly because she would drench his clothes and he still wanted to use them later. He felt too lazy to go fish out his spare shirt from his luggage.

“ I've missed it too”.

They stayed there in silence for a while, just taking in each other's presence. Angela was leisurely washing herself and Andrew observed her intently, not out of lust but just out of the desire to impress that memory into his mind, to preserve it forever inside him.

“ Can you wash my hair?”. Her voice interrupted his musings. She had turned her head so far back to look at him that he considered scolding her for potentially straining her neck. He decided against it, mainly because she probably would have splashed water at him in retaliation, and instead curtly nodded before unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up, moving so that he was sitting right behind her.

She relaxed her neck and closed her eyes, propping herself up on her elbows and resting her arms on the rim of the bathtub. He picked up the small bottle of the courtesy shampoo and unscrewed its lid, pouring the thick scented fluid on the palm of his hand. It smelled like flowers, maybe lavender, but there was also a savory tinge to it, maybe some herb like rosemary or basil. It was fairly delicate, so it wasn't so easy to discern the different aromas.

He didn't dwell on it too much. His hands were soon sinking in her hair, fingers kneading gently against her scalp as he worked the shampoo into her raven-black strands, the foam soon fluffing them up until they were as puffy as cotton candy. She looked so relaxed and blissful, her pose reminding him of one of those Renaissance sculptures she was so eager to come and see with her own eyes. Her face could have been sculpted by Michelangelo or Donatello, a representation of religious ecstasy and piety. He could easily have imagined her figure adorning the marble façade of one of the many churches in the city. 

He did not know if it was due to the atmosphere or his current chain of thoughts, but suddenly Andrew was overcome with a surge of adoration. She seemed to him so perfect, so divine, that he could not hold back the impulse to lean down and place the softest gentlest kiss on her forehead with almost religious reverence.

She chuckled softly and opened her eyes again, breaking that spell. He watched as her head sank back in the water, clouding it up until her figure was no longer clearly visible through the surface. For some reason he felt something crushing his heart at seeing her disappear from his sight, even if for that brief time. He had to choke back the tears that were pushing at the corner of his eyes, overwhelmed with dread at the thought of losing her. 

He was glad for the fact that she had kept her eyes closed, so she wouldn't notice his sudden change of demeanor. He didn't know why it had hit him like that, it had seemed to come straight out of nowhere. Maybe it was from the sheer intensity of how deeply he felt for her, and the knowledge that it all could have been brought to an end just by one false step. 

At that point, Andrew could only  _ wish _ it had been  _ one  _ false step. Given what happened on that Friday night, it was more like he had marched all the way straight into hell. 

Sure, the bastard had dragged him there, against his will... if he really could say that, because no matter how much he tried to reason with himself it kept sounding like a lie. How could she ever believe him when he couldn't even believe it himself? 

It was hopeless. If he wanted to keep her, he could never tell her anything. And this killed him inside, as she had always been his confidant, the one he could tell everything to. He never had to keep a secret from her before in his entire life. Even if she could ever have forgiven him for cheating on her – and just calling it like that already made his stomach churn and his heart sink from the guilt - how could she ever forgive him for hiding it from her all that time?

He should have said something earlier. He should have told her about the nightmares. About his hallucinations and worries. Most of all, he should have told her straight away as soon as he had tried to make a move on him. She would have known what to do. She had far more experience in getting rid of unwanted suitors than him – not a hard feat since he had precisely zero experience in that. 

Why hadn't he done so? He silently cursed himself, but he knew the answer. It was his damn anxiety as always, his fear of having read too much into the other man's actions, of having misunderstood everything, coupled with the embarrassment of being sought after by another man and the humiliation of not having been able to fight back physically when things went too far.

But as much as he hated to admit it, that wasn't  _ all _ . He had never been desired so badly by someone before. That level of sheer unadulterated  _ want _ , no matter how wrong and immoral, from someone that he, too, felt drawn towards in a way he would have never imagined to be possible - not for another man or anyone at all besides his wife. He did not love Alphonse, of course, and he was under no illusion that the other felt anything of the sort. There was nothing but mutual lust between them, which in a normal situation would only have resulted in some awkward interactions at work and not much else.

Too bad there was nothing even remotely normal about the other man. He couldn't even explain it, but there was almost some... otherworldly quality about him. Something lingering beyond the surface, and it had something to do with his soul-piercing eyes and his intoxicating scent. It both attracted and repulsed him at the same time, and either way he couldn't get it out of his mind. If Angela had seemed almost like a divine creature just before, then he guessed Alphonse was the tempting devil. 

At least now he hoped to be free from his curse. As the day went on, the more he spent time alone with Angela the less he was thinking about him. He almost felt healed by her presence. With some luck, maybe he could have forgotten it all by the end of the week. And then he would have tried to think of how to handle the situation from then on. 

  


Fast-forwarding to when they got back to their room after dinner, Andrew was too tired to even have the energy to worry about anything. The only thing he wanted to do was to sleep. 

“ Come on let's get you out of this”, he mumbled, helping a very giggly Angela unzip the red dress that had coincidentally reappeared in her wardrobe just in time for their trip. She had not even tried to pretend to be surprised while Andrew had done his best to look innocently clueless as to how that could have been possible.

She wrapped her arms around him as he started peeling it off of her, struggling to disentangle the zipper from her bra until she solved the problem by simply ripping the front open, laughing at his shocked expression. She helped him get rid of the lower half by wriggling her ass out of it and kicking it off until it flew somewhere near the corners of the room. Andrew would have gone to pick it up had he not been trapped into a crushing embrace, her lips silencing his protests.

For a split second he remembered her promise, and her subsequent denial thereof. Even in his alcohol-induced daze, his cock still had the audacity to give an interested twitch as she pushed him down on the bed and started grinding her crotch against the front of his pants. Their tongues danced together between their mouths, his hands wandering down from her shoulders along her sides, sliding past her narrow waist to reach her ass and give it a squeeze. This fired her up even more, her hips moving with an animalistic frenzy against his, her hands flying down to his shirt to try and unbutton it, until she got so frustrated with it she started tearing it open.

Something about that, about the sound of ripping fabric and the way the buttons popped made him stop in his tracks, dragging him out of his half-drunken stupor.

“ Ah... Angela, wait!”. 

He tried to pull back from the kiss but she immediately pushed her lips back against his and intensified her efforts. This was the point at which Andrew realized something was off, a weird surge of panic taking over as he tried to struggle but couldn't, frozen in place in a way that reminded him of things he'd been trying so hard to keep out of his mind.

_ No... no! _

When her hand slipped inside his pants and grasped his cock he felt that he was on the verge of snapping. Her soft floral scent overlapped with the memory of Alphonse's sickly-sweet one and Andrew knew that something terrible would happen if he didn't do something,  _ anything _ to stop it before things went further. 

His hands went to her wrists, grasping on them before gently but firmly moving them away from himself. He heard and felt her growl in the kiss, interrupting the contact to look at him in frustration.

“ I... I think maybe we should do this tomorrow”, he said, swallowing loudly as he saw her expression darken for a few seconds in a way that made him tremble. He felt weak and confused and ridiculous. He knew her, he loved her and she'd never hurt him, but in that moment he couldn't help but feel terrified by her as if she was an entirely different person.

Then her gaze softened and she sighed, her body relaxing in his grip.

“ Fuck, I'm horny as hell”, she pouted, allowing him to gently push her to the side and pull her into a hug which she reciprocated. Andrew felt so relieved he felt like he almost wanted to cry.

“ I know”. 

_ Me too,  _ he wanted to say, but while it wasn't exactly a lie having sex was the last thing he wanted in that moment. Not to mention it would have been a terrible idea.

They were both too drunk, especially her, and he didn't want to have to deal with the consequences of bad decisions at the very beginning of what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. They would have plenty more occasions to fuck as much as they wanted, so there was no need to rush it. 

He waited for her to calm down some more, then they both resumed their attempts to undress each other. Given what had just happened, Andrew decided it was best to wear their pyjamas rather than go to sleep naked, so he helped her get inside hers before slipping his on. He didn't think she'd manage to wake up and try something dumb while he slept even if she were to be driven mad by lust, but he just... well it felt stupid but he wanted, _ needed _ to feel safe. Even if it was thanks to something as trivial as a barrier of clothes.

As they finally both laid in bed, fully dressed, Andrew drifted to sleep almost as soon as he shut his eyes.

It was in that split second before his eyelids closed that he thought he had seen a dark figure in the corner of the room...

_ Huh, my brain's playing tricks on me again. _

And then only darkness.

  


  


The next day, he was surprised neither of them were suffering from a nasty hangover. They hadn’t even woken up all that late.

On the other hand, Angela remembered all too well her actions from the previous night and was mortified about the way she had acted with him.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not like I’m a damsel in distress”, Andrew tried to joke but she was in no mood for that.

“This is no laughing matter, Andrew. I acted like a brute”, she insisted. “I almost took advantage of you”.

He wanted to say that wasn’t the case, but they both knew it to be a lie. He knew she’d never… but for a second it really had looked like she would.

“You were drunk, you just didn’t realize what you were doing”, he tried to brush it off again. The way that conversation was going made him really uncomfortable.

Angela looked up at him and arched one eyebrow.

“Would you say the same if you had been in my position? ”

Andrew looked away, feeling like he’d just gotten stung. That was unfair.

“...no”.

_But it’s not the same thing_ , he wanted to say. He knew it wasn’t, but he couldn’t explain why.

If he had said it was because he was a man she would have argued women were no more pure nor less accountable than men. If he had said he knew she had meant no harm she would have said intent was irrelevant and he couldn’t read her mind so how could he know?

Then he thought of Alphonse and grimaced.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t the same thing. But he couldn’t tell her that, so he didn’t know what to say. And in the meanwhile she insisted to apologize to him, when all he could think was that he felt terrible for making her worry.

He didn’t deserve her apologies. She had no idea of what kind of man he really was. In fact, what right would he have had to feel hurt by her actions?

But there was no way he could tell her. She deserved to know, but he was too scared. He told himself that she would have understood, that she would have known it wasn’t his fault.

_Would you say the same if you were in her position?_

He felt his heart sink. That was unfair.

_Would you?_

He didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

  


The rest of the day passed by without incidents. Angela had seemed to feel better after apologizing and Andrew was determined to avoid having to revisit that conversation, so he was very relieved when she perked up again after he mentioned it would be a good day to go visit the Uffizi since they had woken up fairly early. Maybe he would even be able to handle _two_ museums, depending on how much it took to visit each of them. Knowing her, however, he highly doubted they would even have the time.

As expected, Angela spent half of her visit staring in awe at each of the various sculptures and paintings that caught her attention, as if waiting for them to come down from their wall and speak to her, and the other half furiously scribbling on a small sketch book she had brought with her for that occasion.

Andrew wished he could have the same enthusiasm she had about that sort of thing. Sure the art there was pretty and at least left more of an impression on him than modern art (he absolutely refused to accompany Angela to any more modern art museums. He just couldn’t see the point, no matter how much she tried to explain it to him, so he had given up completely). But at the end of the day there was only so much he could take from observing the same picture for what felt like hours.

Besides, all of those eyes staring at him from behind the canvas were kind of unnerving. He was glad there were no portraits in their bedroom because they had the same effect on him than porcelain dolls had on some people. He thought of what it would be like to be stuck there alone at night and shivered. Hopefully that image wouldn’t come back to haunt his dreams.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?”, she whispered once they finally managed to be in front of the Primavera.

Andrew had to admit that was an impressive painting, but he still didn’t feel like it was astoundingly different from something she could have painted. He stared at it, trying to look for a hint of what made it so wonderful and unlike any other. People from all over the world knew of that painting. Surely there had to be a reason why.

“I wish I could just stare at it forever”, she sighed.

Andrew wondered if what she felt in that moment was any similar to what he felt when he looked at her.

A small smile crossed his lips. Maybe he _could_ understand, after all.

  


  


Half a week had passed and Andrew felt like there was not a second to rest. There was always something to see or to try, so many things, much more than they could possibly condense in the time they had at their disposal.

Angela had worried he might just end up being even more stressed than if he was at work and had proposed to leave out more things, but in fact he was glad. If they constantly were too busy visiting churches and trying out local foods – he had thought nothing there could horrify him more than cooked stomach and then she went and found a place that served _fried_ _sheep_ _brains_ – and window shopping then there was no time for him to dwell on his own guilt or on the fact that he’d have to face Alphonse eventually and he had no idea of how he would keep a straight face around him ever again.

He had come close to telling her, at some point. He had tried to gather his courage and told her there was something he might need to tell her about.

“Is it something that we can do anything about right now, and right here?”, she had asked.

“Well...no...”.

“Then I don’t want you to worry about anything unnecessary for as long as we are here. I don’t want you to think about work, or Valentine, or anything else but enjoying yourself for once.”

Andrew didn’t know if he should have felt relieved at those words. He knew she would listen if he had insisted but he couldn't bring himself to.

Yet, he didn’t know if he would ever have the courage to tell her again.

_I guess I will worry about it when the time comes._

He had tried to do the right thing, at least. It wasn’t his fault if she had refused to listen.

“ _Isn’t that awfully convenient?”_

He could almost  _feel_ him whisper against his ear, to the point where he had to turn around to check he actually wasn’t there. 

_Of course he isn’t._

At that point the hallucinations didn’t even startle him any more.

He guessed that in itself should have alarmed him more than it actually did.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the beginning of the second part: A Tale of Faltering Reality – there will be a two weeks pause before Andrew’s adventure will resume. (Worry not, it is only so that I can have the chapters both ready and properly checked so that I can keep the usual schedule, as part 2 is still in mid-writing).
> 
>  
> 
> What does Alphonse want from Andrew? Will we find out more about Valentine? Is Derrick ever going to learn to Adult on his own? Is Angela going to find out about any of the fuckery that is going on with Andrew? Will chapters stop having random length? How long before the next smut? Will EU’s Article 13 kill this story? 
> 
> ~~Only one thing is certain: you can’t trust anyone, not even the author.~~


	18. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”  
> \- John Milton, _Paradise Lost_

 

 _As I lie here and stare_  
The fabric starts to tear  
It's far beyond repair  
And I don't really care

 _As far as I have gone_  
I knew what side I'm on  
But now I'm not so sure  
The line begins to blur  
  
[Nine Inch Nails - Only]

  
  


“How was Florence? Did you visit the Uffizi?”, Derrick asked. “I _think_ that’s in Florence, at least”

“Angela wouldn’t have let me live if we didn’t”.

“How was it?”

Andrew shrugged his shoulders. “Full of paintings. Also statues. Or sculptures”. There was a difference. He knew there was, because Angela had promptly informed him of it when he had mixed up the two. Too bad he didn't remember what it was.

“Oh come on!”. Derrick huffed. “What did you see? There's a Da Vinci there, isn't it?”.

“Three of them”, Andrew corrected him. He kept answering the other's questions for a while, directing the conversation more towards topics he actually had the ability to comment on. He didn't really know what to say about the Uffizi beyond “there's a lot of paintings and statues-or-sculptures and they're quite pretty” which he knew sounded underwhelming. He knew Angela would have spent hours detailing the experience, but he didn't have the same passion nor knowledge.

“I bet Valentine was happy to have free reign over the house”, Derrick said with a small wink. “What do you say, do you think he threw a party while you weren't there?”

Andrew cringed at the thought.

“He's not _you_ ”, he replied, hoping to sound more confident than he felt. He _did_ check for signs of unwanted activities as soon as he got back, much to Valentine's annoyance, but he hadn't found anything incriminating so hopefully the boy had kept his word.

“He's not you either – and thank God for that!”, the other noted, promptly dodging an eraser. “I'm sure you also didn't mind not having him around to catch you- _ow!_ ”. He did not dodge the second one. “How many of these do you even have there?!”

“As many as necessary”. Andrew looked down at the clock in the corner of his computer screen and his eyes widened. Did they really waste almost an hour on chatting? Stevenson would be livid.

He was about to tell Derrick to get back to work when the tune on the radio playing in the background reached its last notes, leaving place to a new one.

_-_ _The other night dear, as I lay sleeping,I dreamed I held you in my arms... -_

His entire body stiffened as he felt as if he had just been thrown into freezing water.

_\- ...but when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken, so I hung my head and I cried... -_

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't say a word, the memories crashing down on him all at once like shattered glass.

Alphonse's hands on him, all over him, the rumble of his car and his smell all around him and his eyes...

_No!_

He wanted to scream, but he couldn't, his fingers clenching painfully on his own arms until his nails scraped at his skin, dragging him back to reality.

He opened his eyes, realizing he'd clenched them shut.

He wasn't in Alphonse car. He was in his office, in his own office chair sitting at his desk, with Derrick staring at him in concern.

“Andy?”.

Andrew didn't reply.

He got back, too quickly, almost launching his chair into the workstation behind theirs.

_-...p_ _lease don't take my sunshine away...-_

He knew where he was, he knew it, _he knew,_ but he had to get out of there before it drove him insane.

“Andy!”.

Derrick looked like he was about to get up too so Andrew forced himself to smile at him.

“I'm going... smoke break”, he blurted out, darting out towards the corridor before the other could follow him.

“You don't even smoke!”, he heard him yell back before the door slammed shut, but thankfully he didn't run after him.

He sighed in relief. The music was only a quiet murmur now but he still kept walking, determined to find a way to stay out of there until he was sure it was finished.

 _Don't worry, you'll only get to hear it on a daily basis_ , a sarcastic voice whispered inside him.

He didn't know why it only effected him like that now, he heard that same fucking song every day and sometimes multiple times per day because whoever was picking the songs for the radio station they listened to in the office seemed to never get tired of it.

His musings were interrupted as he almost walked into someone else, stopping right in time to look up at him.

He froze again.

“Whoops! Sorry, didn't see you there”, Alphonse said, his lips curving up in an apologetic smile.

Maybe he _did_ know why, after all.

“Come”.

“What?”. Alphonse looked at him, puzzled, and Andrew lost his patience.

“I said _come_ ”, he hissed, grasping on his arm and resuming his march towards the nearest fire exit. He knew that the metal stairways was where everyone went for smoke breaks, but in that moment he could see that it was empty.

Alphonse didn't resist, nor did he question him, but he still looked confused as to why he was forced to tag along. Andrew didn't bother to explain himself, ignoring the odd looks from two people from a different office as he walked right past them. In that moment, he just didn't care.

He was tired. He wasn't going to deal with the other's shit any longer. He wasn't going to wallow in anxiety again, terrified at the thought of what could be awaiting him in his own damn office. He had to confront the bastard right then and put an end to it.

Andrew pushed open the exit and dragged Alphonse outside with him, closing it right behind them. He let go of his arm and Alphonse moved aside to lean his back against the metal railing, before taking out his cigarettes. The man lit up one in silence before offering them to Andrew, who had to use all of his self control not to slap the packet away from his hand.

“So, what's the idea? Needed to talk?”, the other asked, taking out a drag and puffing a white cloud of smoke.

The smell made Andrew feel faint but he shook it off, forcing himself to remain focused.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do need to talk”, he said, clenching his fists. “We need to talk about the fact that you need to leave me the fuck alone!”.

Alphonse froze up and his face looked as if he had just kicked him.

“I've said I was sorry”, he said after a while. “I know that you're married, and you don't want to be unfaithful-”

“Don't give me this shit!”, Andrew cut him off before he could even finish talking, those words filling him with anger as much as his contrite tone. “You're sorry? You're sorry? After the shit you've pulled, you better be!”

Alphonse narrowed his eyes and, when he spoke again, his tone was not just hurt but also tinged with _anger_. “You did kiss me back, you know. It's not like you can just blame me for it”.

Andrew couldn't believe his ears.

_Really? This shit again?_

“Suppose I also fucked you back?”, he spat out in the most venomous tone he could muster.

Alphonse was left speechless for several seconds, then he furrowed his eyebrows and looked at him as if he had no idea about what he could possibly mean. So that was how he was going to play. Well, in that case Andrew had no intention to beat around the bush.

“What about the dinner, _Al?_ ”

The other man scoffed.

“Maybe you were too drunk to remember, but I didn't kiss you”.

Andrew was more and more outraged with each word that left the other man's mouth.

_He's really pulling this shit. For real. Are you fucking kidding me?_

“My bad then, I guess you didn't _kiss_ me. You just did whatever else you wanted with me”, he snapped.

Alphonse looked at him as if he had just sprouted another head.

“What in blazing hell are you talking about?!”

Andrew looked at him in shock. How could he deny it like that? He knew what he had seen, he knew what he had felt...

_Do you?_

He tried to silence the sudden doubt creeping up at the back of his mind, but it was too late.

“What about that night then?”, he asked, but his voice trembled, there was a tinge of desperation to it. “What about that hotel?”.

Alphonse opened his mouth to speak but instead he just stared at him in silence, as if he didn't know what to say.

“Are you... pulling a prank on me?”, the man finally asked, raising one eyebrow and spreading his lips into an awkward smile. “It's... well, it's kind of in bad taste. Is this a thing you do around here with the new guys?”

Andrew swallowed hard, his eyes scanning him for any trace that could lead him to believe that he was lying. He normally was quite good at telling if someone was trying to trick him, but in this case the other's confusion seemed genuine. Either he was an extremely good actor, or...

_Wouldn't be the first time you see something that's not there, would it?_

Then he remembered. The flash drive, the message, he had the proof!

He shoved his hands in his pockets in search for his phone, but it wasn't there.

_Fuck._

He had left it in his office, again. He really had to learn to be more careful, especially with the other around.

He marched back inside without another word, stopping himself from running just because he didn't want to draw suspicion.

He ignored Derrick's sarcastic remark – something about how nice it was of him to warn him before leaving for no apparent reason – as he got back to his desk as fast as he could, picking up his phone and quickly scrolling through the apps until he found his messages. Then, he scrolled down to find the one he received that night.

He kept scrolling until he reached the end. Then, he scrolled back up.

_Come on!_

He did it again. And again.

_No..._

It made no sense. He knew it was there. He had seen it! He scrolled down again.

_Come on, it has to be there!_

He stared once again at the messages from that night. Derrick telling him to hurry up or else they'd start without him. Angela asking if he would come home before late or go out for drinks as usual. Alphonse sending him some picture of Derrick, seemingly attempting to chat up a mannequin in a shop.

His head hurt as if someone had pointed a blinding light straight into his eyes. He didn't remember any of those. But the one he did remember?

_It's... it's not..._

It wasn't there.

  
  


Andrew wasn't one to drive fast, but that evening he sped up through the streets until the engine growled like a wild beast. He was pretty sure he had ran a red light on the way but he didn't care.

He had to get there fast.

He didn't know what Alphonse had done to his phone but he knew he must have done something. He had deleted the message, and maybe he fabricated the other ones. Was it even possible? He didn't know. _But it could._

_You're fucking paranoid. There's no way he could have done that and you know it._

But he had. There was no other explanation. It had to be true.

_Oh, but there is..._

He didn't want to think about that.

_How many times have you seen things that weren't there in the last days, Andy? How many?_

_No,_ he told himself, _that was different._

He couldn't have possibly imagined everything Alphonse had done to him. Not unless he was really going insane. And that couldn't be it. He might have been stressed, he might have been anxious and paranoid and insecure, but he wasn't _crazy._ Not to that extent.

 _I'm not going insane,_ he told himself as he stopped by the hotel. The address was right. He hadn't imagined that. It really was there.

_Thank God._

He got out and walked in, heading straight for the reception desk. He had no idea of what he could say exactly but he just had to find a way to confirm he had been there with him. Then, he would have enough proof to confront him. Alphonse couldn't possibly delete an entire hotel room out of existence.

“Good evening, how can I help you?”, the woman asked with a friendly smile. She wasn't the same from the other night. That was a shame, cause otherwise maybe she would have recognized him and made his task easier.

“Uhm, so I've been there about a week ago. And, uhm, I'm thinking I might have forgotten something in the room”, he said, blurting out the first excuse that came to his mind.

“Alright. What did you lose exactly?”,

“A, uhm... a flash drive”. Did she even believe a word he was saying? Her expression hadn't changed, but he knew that could be part of the job. Dealing with customers all day meant being able to smile while on the inside she might have been sneering at him, thinking he was an idiot.

“Just a moment”, she said, before she went to check inside a room behind her. Andrew fought against the temptation to use that excuse to sneak behind her desk and check in her computer.

_Did she leave it turned on? There's probably going to be a password... I couldn't guess it before she gets back, could I?_

“I'm sorry sir, it doesn't seem to be there”, she said as soon as she walked out. She sounded more annoyed than sorry, at least to Andrew's ears.

“M-maybe I should go look?”, he said, noticing that her eyebrows immediately shot up. “I mean, it's quite small, so maybe it wasn't found by the cleaning staff... I was in room 313”.

Her eyebrows furrowed, and yet her smile didn't change.

“Ah, there must be a mistake sir. We do not have a room 313”.

The faint headache that had been tormenting him ever since he had that conversation with Alphonse suddenly flared up, making him grimace.

“I'm... I'm sure I've been there”, he insisted.

Her smile didn't falter, instead it cementified on her face. Her eyes however were telling a different story.

“Sir, that's not possible”, she said as politely as she could. He was sure she was cursing at him from the inside. In another situation he would have felt too guilty to persist, but he couldn't afford it. Not when his sanity was at stake.

“I've been there before. With a mister LeFranc. Please, if you could check...”, he insisted.

“Alright, alright, just a second”. He heard her mouse click repeatedly and her hands type furiously on the keyboard. “No, sir. No mister LeFranc here in the last weeks. Not even before then, actually. Can't find any record of him at all.”.

Andrew felt his stomach churn at those words, his hands getting numb. There was a thrumming noise in his ear, hitting his aching head like a jack-hammer.

“Maybe...”, he said, sounding like a million miles away from himself. He could barely hear his own voice as it left his lips. “Maybe there was a misspelling...”

“Not even anything similar, sorry. Maybe you're mixing up the places. There's another Hotel not too far from here. Maybe you should try asking there?”.

She shrugged, surely thinking up a way to get rid of him.

_She's lying._

He had been there. He had been in that room, and Alphonse had been there too.

_Maybe he told her to keep quiet._

Yes, he decided with newfound confidence, grasping on that last vestige of hope. That had to be it. If he was cunning enough to cover his tracks and put on an Oscar-worthy performance when questioned, why wouldn't he bribe the hotel staff to keep quiet? Surely they were used to covering up for cheaters and adulterers, so this wasn't too different for them.

He didn't wait for her to come up with some new lie. He was going to take matters in his own hands.

“Sir! Where are you going? _Sir!_ ”

He ran to the right and found himself at the start of a staircase.

_Aha! Just as I remembered._

Elevator to the left, stars to the right. He knew that.

He remembered!

_I fucking knew it._

He grinned widely, running up the stairs as fast as he could.

He had been there.He hadn't imagined it.

He heard her voice echoing from below.

“I'm going to call the police!”

He ignored her.

 _You lying bitch,_ he thought, panting from the effort. He almost tripped down on one of the steps but he grasped on the railing and just kept going. He couldn't waste any time, he had to find a way to prove he wasn't going insane. If not to Alphonse then at least to himself.

By the time he reached the third – and last – floor his head was throbbing so much that he felt as if it was going to explode and he felt almost nauseous, but he didn't allow himself to wait any longer.

He headed straight to the end of the corridor, where he remembered stopping by the door where his tormentor awaited.

And there he stood, once again unable to move as his mind processed what he was seeing. His head was on fire and his stomach was flipping on itself. Then, his legs stopped working.

He fell on his knees and threw up almost simultaneously, unable to contain himself.

Maybe his body was rejecting the reality in front of him as much as his mind was.

He looked up again and something shook his entire body, over and over. For a moment he believed he was sobbing, then he realized he actually was laughing histerically, so hard that tears were falling down his cheeks, blurring up the words “Janitor's Closet” in front of him.

 _What did I tell you?_ , the snarky voice from before whispered to him.

That woman wasn't lying.

There was no room 313.

_And you are going insane._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back <3
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	19. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor doctor give me the news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This heat is kind of killing my focus XP and I only have one beta looking at this at the time being. Hopefully there aren't more typos and the like than the usual, but if there are that is the reason why

 

Andrew looked around himself nervously, then glanced at his wrist watch for what had been at least the tenth time since he walked in the room

_Quarter past six._

It wasn't like the time was going to run faster if he kept on checking it.

There was no sound from the office. Not even the slightest hint of muffled speaking.

_He's in there, isn't he?_

He tried to suppress the creeping suspicion that maybe he'd mixed up the day of the appointment. He'd checked the date multiple times. He'd called earlier to confirm and soothe his own growing anxiety. That was the right date, and the right time. He just had arrived too early.

_Maybe he's not there yet. He could be visiting someone at home? Do shrinks even do that?_

How long had he been there anyway? It felt like an eternity but it couldn't have been more than ten minutes.

He checked the watch again. _Seventeen past six._

He felt like he was going to go insane just from the waiting.

Andrew glanced up at the wall. Maybe it was the wallpaper. It was light blue, with a simple abstract motive. He remembered reading or hearing from somewhere that blue was supposed to be a soothing color, but to tell the truth it was making him feel like he was underwater and it was kind of suffocating. He didn't like that feeling.

_Maybe I shouldn't be here after all._

He tried to suppress that thought, but it was so tempting. Getting up and leaving while he still could, calling the doctor and make up some excuse about how he couldn't make it after all and they'd have to reschedule, apologizing for wasting his time and assuring he'd hear from him again as soon as possible.

Then delete his number and pretend it never happened.

“Mr. Murray?”

_Shit._

“Yes?”. He turned his head towards the now-open door. He hadn't even heard or seen it open before he heard the man's voice. He looked fairly old, with graying light brown hair that receded on his temples and thick-framed glassed.

The man held out his hand, which Andrew shook squeezing a bit too hard. He cursed under his breath, hoping the other wouldn't think he was being an ass on purpose. He was sure his palms were sweating, which also didn't help.

“I'm Doctor McGregory”.

His voice sounded warm and reassuring. If he had noticed his overzealous grip or sweaty hands he showed no indication of it. Instead he smiled and gestured for him to get inside. “Please, come and take a seat. Is it your first psychiatric visit?”

“Yeah...”. Andrew forced the corners of his lips to curl upwards in what he hoped was a convincing smile. It sounded really off-putting to have it stated so abruptly, as a matter-of-fact thing.

He held back a sigh as he walked in and did as he was asked, taking place in one of the two couches in the center of the room. He guessed the one near the table with the notebook was the doctor's, so he went for the other one.

McGregory didn't take place right away, locking the door first. The sound echoed in the room and made every muscle in Andrew's body tense up, dread filling him almost by instinct as he realized he was once again trapped in a room alone with some strange man.

The doctor seemed to realize that as soon as he looked back at him, because he made an apologetic expression and immediately unlocked the door.

“Ah, I'm sorry, I should have asked first. Some of my patients are a bit... well, not so patient. I simply prefer to avoid interruptions during my sessions”, the man explained, walking up to the free couch and sitting on it. “Can I offer you some water?”

“I'm... I'm good”, Andrew replied, clasping his hands together and rubbing his index with his thumb. He didn't want to be there, which of course wasn't something he could tell the other, not after insisting to be seen as soon as possible when he had first called him.

_Fuck me and my overly-panicked ass._

It wasn't like it'd have killed him to wait for a few more weeks. Then again... how long had he been having hallucinations by then? Weeks? _Months?_

He shouldn't even have been surprised that they'd get worse over time. But no, he had to try and pretend nothing was wrong. If he ignored a problem for long enough it would be as if it never existed, right? Well, apparently not.

_I should have done this when they first started._

“So, Mr. Murray. What brings you here?”. The doctor's voice interrupted his musings. He had picked up his notebook and a pen, and was already writing something down despite the fact that Andrew had barely uttered a word since he was in there. “In your phone call you mentioned you've been seeing things. Things that you're not so sure are really there. Can you tell me more about that?”.

Andrew finally sighed. He couldn't go back now. He had come there for a reason.

_I can't let this ruin my life._

If not for himself, then he had to do it for his family. It had already happened at work, and what if next time it made him believe he had done his job when he didn't? Hell, he had already risked that when he stayed behind to finish the report and his mind had decided to play tricks on him. He couldn't risk to be fired.

But that wasn't his only worry. Maybe not even his main worry, in fact. No, his first thought was that if his mind could conjure something so elaborate and crazy, what if it happened at home? What if his mind somehow mixed up Valentine with Alphonse, for example, and he ended up injuring his son while believing he was defending himself? What if it happened with Angela?

He couldn't risk it. He had already decided.

Now matter how uncomfortable and terrifying, he had to find a way to stop it. Hopefully the man in front of him would know how.

Therefore, he started to tell him everything. Well, _almost._ He didn't tell him about the sexual nature of his episodes. But he did tell him about the nightmares, the fact that he'd started seeing Alphonse everywhere at random times, and his suspicion that the other was staring at him.

The doctor listened to him intently, noting down things as he spoke. After a while, he started asking questions.

“When you say that you're seeing things, you understand that you're talking about hallucinations, right?”

Andrew grimaced and nodded. “I... I understand.”

McGregory nodded back and gave him an encouraging smile. “There's no need to be alarmed just yet. There are many reasons why someone could be experiencing hallucinations. It doesn't necessarily mean you have any long-standing illness, and even if you did there are ways to handle them”, he explained. “By the way, there are many different kinds of hallucinations. From what you are saying, I assume what you are experiencing are visual hallucinations. However, have you also ever heard things you're not quite sure are really there? Smelled something that you're quite sure could not be there? Maybe felt something touching you, like a spider crawling on your leg, but nothing was there to do it?”

Andrew barely held back a snort.

_Have I ever?! Only all the damn time._

“Yes”.

“Yes to which?”

“Yes to all of that”.

The man seemed taken aback by his response.

“So visual, auditory, olfactory _and_ tactile hallucinations?”, he asked, scribbling furiously in his notebook. “That sounds intense. And you are _absolutely sure_ these are things that aren't there?”.

This time Andrew couldn't hold it. The man gave him another apologetic look.

“I understand these might sound like obvious questions. It's not in my intent to insult your intelligence, Mr. Murray. But if you want my help, I'll need you to be as clear as you can”

“I'm absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent certain. I almost got the police called on me trying to convince myself a room that wasn't in a building actually existed.” Andrew replied, trying not to sound as frustrated as he was feeling.

The doctor nodded and hummed, pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.

“How long has this been going on?”

_Too damn long._

Andrew furrowed his eyebrows and tried to focus. How long had it been since Alphonse started working with them? They had worked together on three projects, although one of them was already more than halfway through by the time he joined them. And each project took nearly two entire months to complete, sometimes more back when it was only him and Derrick working on it.

“I think maybe four months. Maybe more? But it was not... it only got really bad in the last weeks”.

More humming and nodding. Andrew had thought he'd have found that annoying, but he didn't. At least the other seemed to be paying attention given how much he was noting down. Hopefully he wouldn't decide to lock him in some institution as soon as he was done.

“Do you have any history of mental illness in your family?”

The question caught him off guard, like a punch to his gut.

“I...”. Andrew interrupted himself, swallowing loudly. “I don't... I don't know?”. He smiled apologetically, feeling his face flush as the older man tilted his head and gave him a puzzled expression.

“What do you mean you don't know?”.

Andrew was sure the other's tone was meant to be patient, yet he couldn't help but interpret as mocking.

He quickly looked away, laughing nervously.

_God this is awkward._

“Well I don't, uhm, I don't really know...much about them. My mother, she... I think she was healthy, but I can't really be sure. And I never knew my father.”

He tried to recall anything that Charles – his grandfather – might have said about him, beyond the fact that he was a good-for-nothing lowlife. All he knew was that he had been much older than his mother, possibly quite rich, and that he bailed out as soon as he found out she was pregnant.

He didn't even know his name; his mother used to call him “that white devil” in the short time that Andrew spent with her; Charles called him “that bastard” and variations on that note, while Grandma merely changed the topic every time it came up. He guessed since he no longer was a child maybe they would have told him if he had asked them, but that would have probably been the most awkward call of his entire life.

He could almost imagine it already. “ _Hi Grandma, I know I haven't called you since I got married and your husband decided Angela was a 'stuck-up whore', but could you maybe tell me about dad?”_

“I see”. The doctor was staring at him in a way that Andrew really didn't like, and the sympathy in his voice just served to make him more uncomfortable.

He shrugged, trying to make himself sound as nonchalant as possible.

“My mother never knew her real parents either so that's just unfortunate. I guess I'm just not destined to know about my chances with hereditary illnesses”.

It was all in the past anyway. It had already stopped mattering many years before and he wasn't going to let himself care again.

He guessed he couldn't really fault the guy for his question nor his reactions either. It wasn't like he could know. Andrew knew his situation was unusual, by that point he was used to it.

Or so he told himself, at least.

“Where was she from?”, Doctor McGregory asked, curiosity written all over him as his eyes peered at his patient's face, and Andrew could feel it on himself almost like a physical touch – lingering on the shape of his nose and lips, on his slightly-almond hazel eyes and his medium-length curly hair that Grandma always insisted to cut short, so short that you couldn't quite tell the texture.

This time, he didn't even try to hold back from glaring before he coldly replied, “Massachusetts”.

“I see...” McGregory cleared up his throat and his large pale face reddened a little, which gave Andrew a small rush of satisfaction. “You've mentioned nightmares. Would it be correct to say you've been experiencing sleep-related issues? Could you maybe tell me more about that?”.

_Oh man, where to even start?_

He talked at large about his nightmares, including the ones he could not really recall, and all the times he woke up abruptly because of them and struggled to get back to sleep, and then the sleepwalking. The doctor seemed particularly interested about that last point.

“Is that something you've ever experienced before?”.

Andrew shook his head. “Not at all”

“I see...”

_Is that all he ever says?_

Andrew really hoped that something of what he was saying made sense to that man, because the more he talked the more he felt like a raving lunatic.

“So, what do you think it is?”, he eventually asked, once the other seemed to have exhausted all of his questions and he felt like they'd been at it for hours and hours. If his wristwatch was still working properly, however, it was a quarter to eight. Meaning it had not been much longer than an hour.

_I think I'd rather be compiling an entire worksheet by hand for over an hour than this._

“I can't really say for sure, of course, but from the current information my guess would be stress and sleep-deprivation. Stress from work, for example, making it hard to sleep which in turn makes you more prone to stress and fatigue, and really ends up becoming a snake biting its own tail. I would not be surprised if you had a history of anxiety, which could be a contributing factor.”, the doctor said, placing down his notebook and looking at him with a serious expression. “Now, I do not wish to alarm you of course, but I also cannot rule out the possibility of this being early manifestation of schizophrenia...”

Andrew felt as if someone had just dropped ice water on his head. He barely heard what the other said next – something about prescribing him a “low-dosage antipsychotic” and seeing him again in the future and blood tests to check something and to call him if he experienced side effects or worsening symptoms. He heard the words and understood them too, but his mind was stuck on loop and the only thing it really was focusing on was the same four words repeated over and over again.

_Early manifestation of schizophrenia..._

He didn't know if he wanted to laugh or to cry.

  


“ _-drew?_ Andrew? Ground control to Major Tom?”

Andrew looked up from his mashed potatoes to find Angela and Valentine staring at him with almost identical expressions. In another context he would probably have found it funny.

“Hm?”, he mumbled, his lips curling up into a tired smile.

“I was asking if you're feeling well. You've been pushing food around your plate for like an hour now”, his wife said, furrowing her eyebrows. “It's probably cold by now”.

“Ah, I'm sure it's still great”. He quickly collected some chicken and potatoes with his fork, dipping them in gravy before sticking them into his mouth. They were, in fact, cold. “Hmm, delicious!”.

Angela rolled her eyes and sighed, while Valentine smiled at him. Andrew was not sure he liked that smile, nor the odd knowing look he threw at him. What exactly did he think he knew anyway?

“Did something happen at work?”, Angela asked, distracting him from his conjectures.

“Uhm... yeah”, he lied. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie, except that wasn't why he was so out of there and it was more like it happened in his head than at work, but other than that...

 _Alright, it_ _**is** _ _a lie._

But what exactly could he tell her? _“Well see I went to a shrink and he told me I'm probably a schizo and now I have to take drugs to try and make my brain not see things that aren't there”_.

He cringed at the mere thought.

_Not a chance in hell._

“I had a fight with Alphonse”, he said. That wasn't a lie, and it was in fact part of what made him feel like shit. He couldn't forget the man's face when he told him to stay away and then accused him of taking advantage of him. He had looked so hurt, almost _betrayed_ , as if Andrew had stabbed him in the back.

Thinking about it in hindsight he wanted to kick himself because of course it had been his own paranoid brain all along, it was the only way in which any of that could make sense. Alphonse's flip-flopping attitude, from kind stranger selflessly helping two unknown men in trouble to the perverse attacker of his dreams. The mysteriously disappearing messages and hotel rooms, not to mention his own bruises from their night at the hotel – the night that never actually happened.

He supposed he should have felt relieved. He hadn't cheated on his wife, except for that one kiss, and he wasn't sharing his workspace with some sort of obsessive stalker after all. He should have been thankful to learn it was all just some sort of sick trick played by his own stressed-out and sleep-deprived brain.

Yet any relief he might have possibly felt was overshadowed by his regret and sense of guilt.

He had sabotaged his relationship with his coworker with his own hands. Alphonse was completely avoiding him again, and this time it wasn't out of awkwardness. He didn't think the other really believed it had been a prank. Maybe now he thought that Andrew was trying to get him fired. Maybe he thought it had been a way to push the blame for their almost-office-flirt entirely on him. Either way, he had fucked it up.

“What about?”, she asked.

_Shit._

“I, uhm...”. He shoved more food in his mouth to stall for time and come up with an acceptable answer. “I got too paranoid and I unfairly accused him”.

“Of what?”, she insisted, seemingly even more curious.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit..._

“Uhm... f-flirting”, he mumbled, turning bright red and hoping she hadn't heard him.

Much to his surprise she started laughing in response.

He looked up at her, feeling kind of hurt. He knew he never exactly had as many suitors as she did but was the idea really _that_ laughable?

“I'm sorry”, she said, covering up her mouth and trying to compose herself before talking “I didn't meant to laugh but... seriously, _how could you even think that?_ I've only met him once and I barely even remember him. Just because I exist in near proximity to another man doesn't mean he's going to lust after me”.

Relief washed over him almost immediately.

_Oh. Thank God._

He tried to ignore the fact that Valentine was staring at him, not wanting to see what kind of expression was on his face in that moment. Would it be contempt? Derision? Disappointment?

Angela shook her head, then she started looking pensive and rubbed her chin. “Besides... I think Alphonse is gay”.

Andrew choked on a piece of chicken and was shook by a coughing fit, spitting it out in a paper towel before it suffocated him. Meanwhile, Valentine was trying and failing to silently snicker in his own hand.

“Valentine, don't be so immature! There's nothing funny about it”, Angela scolded him, narrowing her eyes in disapproval. “It's a perfectly normal human variation. In fact, you probably have friends that are gay and don't even know it.”

At this point Valentine almost started choking too, except from laughter, while Angela glared at him.

Suddenly, Andrew found himself wishing he could bury himself in a hole underground and never have to come out from there again.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	20. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some intentional confessions and some unintentional ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering where Valentine was all this time  
>  ~~Spoiler: not where he should have been~~

The following days, Andrew found himself staring at Alphonse almost more than at his computer screen, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that his presence stirred up inside him.

It had been easier to think rationally while he had been at home, to tell himself that he needed to confront him again and find some way to apologize and explain himself without making him think he was crazy or playing him for a fool.

Easier to tell himself that all that had happened – that he _thought_ had happened – had been in his head.

Well, most of it.

“ _You did kiss me back, you know”._

He remembered the way the other had kept finding excuses to be around and touch him while in the office. Did he imagine that too? Had that also been an hallucination?

Maybe not even that, maybe it had just been his paranoia making him read too much into things that the other hadn't even done consciously. Maybe he just had seen what he had wanted to see.

_Wanted to...?_

His face heated up at the thought, eyes lowering towards his keyboard while he hoped the other wasn't looking in his direction.

Did he, could he possibly have _wanted_ Alphonse to touch him?

Certainly not rationally, and his first instinct was to deny it could even be an option, but then his thoughts drifted back to the first time he had woken up from one of his nightmares and ran off to rub one out to it. And all the times after that when it hadn't been the thought of Angela or any other woman bringing him to orgasm, but of Alphonse's hands on him and of his intoxicating smell.

_I really must be sick._

In fact, he felt quite nauseous at the idea. Either that, or maybe it was the pills.

He glanced at his bag. He had no reason to bring his medication with him to work. The doctor had said to take them in the evening as one of the main side-effects was to induce drowsiness, which hopefully would help him get a good night's sleep and kill two birds with one stone.

Still, he felt that having them with him would help him to accept the reality of the situation. Especially when his first reaction upon going to work the next day after the visit had been to reject the idea he could have possibly made up any of that.

_He's just fucking with me, I don't know how but he's fucking with me and trying to drive me mad,_ his mind had kept screaming at him every time his gaze fell on his co-worker, eyeing him with distrust.

Besides, if he really was imagining things, how would he know he hadn't imagined going to the doctor? How would he know that also hadn't been some elaborate dream?

Those pills in his bag confirmed that it had been real. Hopefully, if they worked as expected then he would not have to keep asking himself that sort of questions in the first place.

In fact, since that visit he couldn't help but find himself looking around in search of something that could suggest whether he was really there doing what he thought he was doing from time to time.

Had the big clock on the wall always been there? He never really paid it much attention since he had his own, plus the one on his monitor, so it was always just something in the background. Same for the continuous humming noise one could hear below the collective typing and the songs from the radio. Was it the computers? The coffee machine? He couldn't remember ever hearing that noise before, but then again if he had been constantly aware of all the sounds going on around him he probably would have flipped.

The pale grey walls. The three main buildings visible beyond the big windows on the left. The “hang in there” poster with a kitten grasping on a tree branch and the “work hard stay humble” one in simple black-on-white lettering. Everything seemed so familiar and alien at the same time. He was fairly sure it had all always been there looking exactly like that as long as he could remember, but could he _really_ be sure?

_For fuck's sake stop it! This is just driving me even more insane._

He glanced back at his desktop. How long had he been stuck on the same page? At that rate he was going to take an entire week for a couple day's worth of work.

“Hey Andy”.

He turned to look at Derrick, who scooted closer to him. “Are you busy this evening?”

_Really? Right now?_

Andrew rolled his eyes. “We have work tomorrow, and it's really not the best time to get drunk-”

“No no!”, Derrick hurried to reply. “I didn't mean... I don't want to drink, I just wanted to talk with you about something, that's all”.

Andrew almost scoffed in response. “We _are_ talking”.

“Uhm”. Derrick threw a quick glance in Alphonse's direction before looking up at Andrew. “I meant in private”.

Andrew felt his heart sink.

_Oh God. Did he tell him?_

“I...”, he gulped loudly, looking away and wondering how suspicious Derrick would get if he refused. “I don't know...”.

“I swear I won't be drinking. Not even a drop”, the other insisted. “Please”.

_Fuck._

“I can't be late, I have to drive Valentine and his friend home”, he said. “I've got half an hour. Maybe one”.

“That's fine”, Derrick replied, sounding relieved. “Thank you”.

Andrew mumbled something in response and tried to pretend to focus on his work. In reality he was already panicking, wondering what exactly the other wanted to talk about. It had to be about Alphonse, that was why he wanted him out of the picture. Unless it was about Susan, but then why would he want them to be alone?

_Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe he's just not comfortable talking to Alphonse about it._

On the other hand, why wouldn't he? Even now that his instincts screamed at him to stay far away from the man, he had to admit it was way too easy to open up to him, even for someone as paranoid and mistrustful as him. So why would Derrick have any reason to feel uncomfortable?

Only one thing was certain at that point, and that was that with yet another source of stress and uncertainty he had no chance of getting anything done for the rest of the day.

  
  


  
  


“What did you want to talk about?”.

Derrick was looking at him nervously, which was only driving Andrew up the wall.

_Just get on with it already._

“Well see, I was wondering... you've been awfully quiet around Alphonse lately”, the other man said, making Andrew's heart skip a beat.

_I knew it. I fucking knew it._

“I'm trying to do my job”, he replied dryly, hurrying to grab his drink and take a sip. It was only a soda and now he almost regretted not getting a beer. He could already tell that evening was going to get rough.

“Andy, you've barely talked to him since you two had a fight”, Derrick insisted, continuing before he could try to address that. “And I know you two did! Don't try to tell me you didn't because Jake saw you get outside with Alphonse and he told me you looked pissed, and if he's noticed then you must have been really pissed.”

Andrew opened his mouth to deny but then closed it again, letting out a small sigh.

_Guess it's not use denying it._

He didn't know who this Jake was but probably someone from another department. Maybe one of those people they passed by when he had dragged Alphonse outside to talk.

He decided to change his approach.

“Why do you care?”, he asked, rubbing the side of his temples with his fingers. “It's got nothing to do with you...”

“Because I'm your friend?”, Derrick replied, raising one eyebrow and crossing his arms.

Andrew scoffed.

“Whatever gave you that idea?”, he replied as coldly as possible, emptying his glass and placing it back on the table. Maybe he could already get going. Had it been half an hour already?

Derrick also scoffed, slamming his hand on the table.

“Why do you have to be like this?”, he growled, sounding more frustrated than angry, before taking a deep sigh and moving back into his seat. “Sorry... but man, why do you have to be such a prick? I know you care about me, and I'm sure you care about Alphonse too. So I want to know what's going on”.

“Is shoving your nose in my business your idea of being friends?”, Andrew replied, but he couldn't even muster up the conviction to sound nasty. He was just so tired. Why couldn't Derrick let it be?

“If it gets you to tell me what's going on then yes!”, the other stubbornly replied. “I'm tired of the atmosphere in the office! Things used to be cool between us and now you two won't talk and it makes things awkward. If you think I can't notice that then you really must think I'm an idiot!”

“...I don't think you're an idiot”, Andrew muttered, looking anywhere but at him. He didn't know why he was so insistent about that whole matter. Derrick could be friends with Alphonse all he wanted, but as for himself... well, he wasn't sure of how he could even begin to mend things. And then there was still the matter that he was, well, not exactly indifferent towards Alphonse. So maybe it was the best to leave things as it was.

“Good, then tell me what's up with Alphonse”.

Andrew sighed again, looking up to Derrick. Could he really tell him? All of his instincts told him no, that Derrick could not be trusted, that he could never let anyone know about it.

_You can't just ignore everyone else forever,_ his wife's words resounded in his ears. He tried to push them back.

“I...”, he stopped himself, looking around nervously. “I think... I think Alphonse is gay”.

Derrick looked at him with a puzzled look.

“How come?”, he asked, then he put his hand forward as if to stop him. “Wait, nevermind... what does that have to do with anything?”

Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but he felt like he was going to choke on his own words so he closed it again.

“I just don't see why you'd... and it's not like... well, even if it is it's kind of personal, you know?”. Derrick also seemed to be struggling with words, looking extremely embarrassed. “... but why do you think he's gay?”.

“He...”, Andrew started to say, looking anywhere else but at Derrick. “It's just, some of the things he said you know?”.

“Like what kind of things?”

Andrew was already regretting getting himself into that mess.

“Forget it”, he said, looking around for the waiter. Maybe he would get a beer, after all.

“Is _that_ what's been bothering you?”, Derrick asked, sounding incredulous. “Even if he is, why do you care? Are you...”

The man interrupted himself, staring at him with a look that Andrew couldn't quite decipher.

“What?”, he finally snapped after several moments of silence.

“Is it...is it a problem for you if he's gay?”, Derrick asked, scratching on the back of his head. He seemed at least as uncomfortable as Andrew was in that moment, which was a slight relief.

“It's...”

Andrew didn't know what to say. He was only starting to realize how it all sounded. Derrick must have thought he was a raging homophobe or something.

“It's not a problem but-”

“But what?”, Derrick insisted, looking at him with something like disappointment. Andrew really didn't like that, but he tried to push the thought away. So what if Derrick thought he was an asshole? Maybe it was a good excuse to get him off his case. Just pretend he couldn't stand Alphonse cause he thought he was gay and he hated that. He didn't care what Derrick thought of him anyway.

“...He came onto me”.

Andrew wasn't quite sure he'd said that. He knew he'd thought it but had the words really left his mouth?

From the look in Derrick's face, it seemed like he also was unsure if he had heard what he thought he had.

“He _what?_ ”, the man asked with a nervous laugh. “But you're married! Surely he'd know you're not, err, playing for that team. Are you sure he was coming onto you?”

“That night when you fell asleep by the bar and he drove me home. He... he kissed me”, Andrew admitted, looking down at his own hands that were balled up into fists on top of his thighs. 

_Why am I telling him this?_

“Oh!”, Derrick said, his blue eyes growing wide as a look of both shock and understanding spread through his features “I see!”. 

Andrew saw him quickly grab onto his soda, as if he also was looking for an excuse not to talk. For a while, neither of them talked.

“Well, that must have been awkward. But he knows you're married, so it's not like he's gonna get his hopes up you know? I'm sure he was just drunk and-”

“I kissed him back”.

Andrew had spoken in the smallest of voices, not even daring to lift his eyes again. This time he knew the words had left his mouth. He simply couldn't believe he had actually let that happen.

“I... _what?!_ ”, Derrick almost yelled, lowering his voice halfway through. “Oh... oh shit, man”.

Andrew almost let out a small laugh, albeit on the other hand he also wanted to cry.

“Yeah...”, he murmured, tormenting his hands in his lap.

“Are you...?”, Derrick asked, lowering his voice even more and glancing around to check no one was listening. “Well you know-”

“No!”, Andrew snapped, his face turning red. Why did he think it was a good idea to tell Derrick, for fuck's sake? How could he be so stupid?

“Ok, ok!”.The other raised his hands in a gesture of surrender as he heard the anger in his voice. 

There was a long silence between them, and then Derrick couldn't hold back any longer.

“But _why?_ ”, he asked, confusion written all over his face. “You're married!”

“Fucked if I know”, Andrew replied, shrugging. He'd told himself the same things over and over again and still couldn't make sense of it.

“Does she know?”, was Derrick's next question, which made Andrew's blood run cold.

“No! And she mustn't!”, he quickly said, almost panicking. “It was just that one time anyway! It's not... it's not important. It'd only cause more problems than it's worth.”

He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or Derrick, and either way he wasn't sure if it was working. But eventually he heard him sigh and saw him look towards him with something like defeat.

“So you've not cleared things up since then? But it all seemed fine until you came back from vacation”, Derrick noted. “Did he try anything again?”.

“No, no”, Andrew replied a bit too quickly, but thankfully the other didn't seem to catch on. 

Maybe, after all, Derrick wasn't the worst person he could have picked to blurt out his woes. He knew Angela would have called out his bluff before he could have even gotten in another word.

Still, it was odd to be there, opening up with someone else than her. The last time he had opened up to someone other than his wife had been Alphonse...

_And look where that got me._

“It's just...”, he said, trying to think of how to explain himself. “Well I figured it was a good idea to put distance between us. Just in case”. 

It wasn't like that was intentionally what he did but... it was exactly what he did, wasn't it? He hadn't tried to mend things with Alphonse yet because he was a fucking coward.

It wasn't simply that he was scared of having been right, he realized, of what might happen if he were to put himself in a dangerous situation with him and be taken advantage of in the same way as in what he now begrudgingly accepted to have been extremely vivid hallucinations.

The truth was, he was even more scared of what could happen if he cleared up his misunderstanding, if things went back to the way they were before and he could no longer find reasons to keep himself away from the other man.

Because the fact was, he didn't know that he'd be strong enough to say no if he actually were to have the choice to do so. And that thought terrified him almost more than the idea that the other might have been some sort of obsessive pervert.

“You're not putting distance Andy, you've built the damn Great Wall of China between you and him!”, Derrick said, snorting. “No wonder he's cranky”.

“He is?”. Andrew looked up at him in surprise. He hadn't been able to tell... then again he hadn't exactly been focused on what the other might be feeling, too preoccupied with the utter mess that was his own current emotional state.

“He's sent me the same e-mail four times, twice without attachment and once with the wrong one”, Derrick replied. “And that's only from today. I'm telling you Andy, it's going to drive me crazy if it keeps on like this, and I know it's already driving you both crazy. You two need to talk”.

Andrew groaned, rubbing his hands against his face. Why did things have to be so complicated? And why did Derrick have to go and get himself involved in it?

“Maybe he needs to learn to accept rejection”, he said, shrugging and trying to sound unaffected. But he wasn't

_He's upset about this... so it's also been weighting on his mind._

He was feeling kind of vindicated about it. At least he wasn't the only one losing sleep over it.

“Maybe you need to learn to have some empathy”, Derrick replied, more sternly than Andrew would have expected. “I'm not saying he shouldn't have thought twice before... well...” - his voice started faltering a bit - “But still! It must have been pretty confusing for him too. Did either of you ever bring it up again or...?”.

Andrew shook his head, once again looking anywhere else. He couldn't even think of it without feeling mortified, how was he supposed to discuss it with Alphonse of all people?

Derrick sighed again.

“Andrew, it's not that much of a big deal as you think it is. It was only a kiss, right?”.

_Yeah_ , he thought, then his mind conjured back the image of Alphonse forcing himself on him, which made him stiffen. 

He felt so ridiculous. All of his musings and paranoia over something so small. Yet, he hadn't been able to push Alphonse back then anymore than he'd been in his subsequent imaginary encounters. Wasn't that a case for concern? He really wasn't sure anymore.

“Maybe you are right”, he conceded, still not fully convinced. But then again how much could he trust his own perceptions? 

“Of course I am”, Derrick said, before emptying his glass and staring straight at him with a somewhat nervous expression. “But...uhm, well....” 

Andrew furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?”

He could tell there was something bothering his coworker, and he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to know what that was.

“You... uhm...”, Derrick started again, his voice trailing off before he could even begin to ask.

“I...?”. Andrew looked at him expectantly, even if he had a clear feeling he wasn't going to like what the other was about to say.

“Well, I mean... when you... you know...”, the other interrupted himself again, looking around as if to make sure no one was listening. 

“Derrick, for the love of God, what is it?”

“Did you two snog?”, Derrick finally blurted out, making him turn bright red. “Like, with tongue and all?”.

“Derrick!”

“I'm just asking!”, he said, his face almost as red as Andrew's. “I mean... I couldn't snog a dude! That's just... no!”.

Andrew let out a loud groan. Now he was once again starting to regret talking to him.

“Look, I don't know what came on to me. It was like being possessed”, he tried to explain. “I must have drank too much”.

“You've never snogged me when you were drunk”, Derrick noted, before quickly hurrying to add: “and please never try!”.

Andrew shot him a dirty look.

“I certainly don't intend to”, he said, and was about to add something else when suddenly his phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pants and nearly dropped it as he saw Valentine's name on the screen.

“Fuck!”. He looked at his watch, eyes widening in shock. How had they been there so long? It felt as if it had been no more than ten minutes since they sat down.

He sighed and accepted the call, grimacing as he heard his son's voice.

“Hey dad. Where are you?”.

He didn't even sound annoyed, only surprised and maybe even slightly amused. Still, Andrew felt guilty all the same.

“Hey there,” he said, trying not to sound nervous. “I'll be right there, sorry I couldn't make it in time. Please tell Michael that I'm sorry.”

“Oh... actually he's had to leave earlier, so don't worry. You don't have to rush, I'll just wait”.

Those words were probably meant to reassure him, but they had the opposite effect on him.

“You mean you're alone?”, he asked, feeling his stomach clench up. “Where... please tell me you're indoors”.

“Uhm, not really? Let me see... I could get back to the bar I guess?”.

Andrew clenched his fists, forcing himself not to raise his voice.

“Yes, do that”, he said. Then he realized something.

_A bar? There are no bars around the library..._

“Wait, hold on a se-”

Then he froze.

_He said “back”, didn't he. “Back_ _into the bar”. What does he mean with “back”?!_

“Back into _what_ bar, Valentine?”

He really didn't like the silence that followed that.

“Valentine”, he insisted, his tone growing colder. He could feel his heart beat so fast it was like it was trying to leap out of his throat. “Where are you exactly?”.

“...uhm, I'll send you the coordinates”, Valentine finally replied, and he was sure he'd heard him sigh. “Please don't kill me...”.

“I'll be right there”, Andrew replied sternly, before cutting the call and glancing at Derrick. The other man was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and mild worry. “Sorry, I have to go. We can... uhm...”.

He'd meant to say they could talk another time, but the truth was he really didn't want to continue that conversation.

“That's fine, I'm sorry you had to be late because of me. Tell Val it's all my fault”, Derrick said, pulling up his hands again.

_Trust me he's got other things to worry about right now_ , Andrew thought.

He was already worried to death. Where the fuck was his son exactly? He knew there were no bars around the library where he was supposed to be waiting for him. Had he been drinking?

_He's underage!,_ he thought, fuming. _I'm going to fucking kill him_...

He got up and walked up to the counter to pay for his soda.

_...and whatever barman sold him drinks..._

He didn't even turn to look back at Derrick. He was itching to get out of there as fast as possible.

_...and whoever dragged him there in the first place._

He was sure someone must have. Valentine was a bit reckless but he knew how pissed Andrew would be if he caught him drinking.

_Oh he's so fucking dead!_

Andrew was almost out of there already when he heard Derrick's voice again.

“Ah, Andy! Wait-”

“What?”, he cut him off, turning around to glare at him. He knew it wasn't his fault but right then he was keeping him from getting to whichever hellhole his son had gotten himself into so he wasn't inclined to be patient.

“Please tell me you'll talk to Alphonse?”, Derrick asked, his tone almost desperate. “Please. It's miserable to work like this.”

Andrew held back from groaning. He really didn't want to, but...

_It can't go on like this, can it?_

“I'll... do my best”, he replied, while Derrick smiled and already was looking relieved.

“Thanks man”.

_Yeah, whatever._

“I really must go”, Andrew insisted, opening the door and running out to his car before the other could even reply.

“Yeah, yeah! See you at work!”, he heard Derrick yell out at him. At least he thought he did.

With the way things had been going for him lately, he could never be too sure.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	21. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yikes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm a bit in a pickle because I want to be able to warn about content but I also don't want to go around and make spoilers. I had to make some changes to the tags, partially because of some elements in this second part of the story.  
> I will not say which chapter(s) and to which degree, but there are some incest undertones. I know it's something that a lot of people don't want to read about in any shape or form or mention so I feel it needs a warning. Better to know before you stumble on it, if you still decide to continue reading.
> 
> Also, it's not a new change from today but I took off the dubious consent tag. I feel like it's too potentially misleading and if someone has issues with dubious consent the noncon tag already takes care of that. It wasn't there for the reason you probably suspect was there and my worry is that can be misunderstood.

 

Andrew was using all of his self-control to keep himself from speeding through the roads, telling himself the last thing he needed was to be stopped by some overzealous policeman for going too fast for his liking, or worse, actually get into an accident.

 _Getting yourself in trouble will not make you get to him any faster_ , he told himself for what had to be the tenth time.

He glanced at the GPS and clenched his teeth as he noticed exactly how far his destination was from the library.

He hadn't simply happened to wander out of there with Michael and decide to get into a bar. No, he realized, the truth was they hadn't set foot in there in the first place.

This was no accident. It was premeditated.

Valentine had lied to him.

_Studying together my fucking ass._

Whose idea was it, he wondered. Was it Michael's? It must have been... Valentine hadn't ever done something like that before. But he'd never expected Micheal to do something like that. He was a good friend of his son, maybe even his best friend. Why would he do something so stupid?

_And why didn't Valentine say no?_

He shook his head. It wasn't any use to ask himself that, all the “why's” in the world would not have changed the fact that first, his son had lied to him, and second, he'd done something that could have gotten him in serious trouble. What if he pissed off some drunkard? What if he got himself into a fight? What if some lunatic knifed him, or some criminal mugged him, or some pervert talked him into drinking something weird, or...

He felt himself getting light-headed and realized he had started hyperventilating. He immediately opened the window, letting the cold breeze hit his face as he forced himself to breathe deeply, feeling as if he had swallowed an ice cube. It was way too cold to drive with the windows open and soon he was shivering from it, but it helped him stay focused.

_For the love of all that is holy I hope he at least has a jacket._

On one hand, he felt like Valentine deserved to get a cold just on the basis of how utterly stupid he'd been. On the other hand his paternal instinct screamed with worry at the thought of his son getting sick because you could never know and he would never forgive himself if something happened to him because he didn't get there fast enough.

_If only I had kept an eye on the time..._

He was at fault too, he felt, because if he hadn't lost track of time with Derrick he already would have been there and Valentine would have been in his car and not outside in the cold in an area where he shouldn't even have _thought_ of walking into.

Finally, the GPS showed that he was almost arrived at his destination. It was only a matter of moments, all he had to do was to turn left and go down a bit further along the road and then Valentine was going to regret all of his life choices that led him there in the first place. Andrew didn't know yet what he would say to him but oh he was going to give him an earful, that was for sure.

_The fucking nerve... how could he just lie to me like that? I don't underst-_

Then he stopped in his tracks, his car screeching loudly as he suddenly stepped on the brake.

There were two figures on the sidewalk and one of them was Valentine, while the other one was someone else he didn't know but who was far too old and insistent in approaching the teen, who had been walking backwards from him. Both of them turned around at the sudden noise, and Valentine's face immediately lit up as he recognized him.

“Dad!”, he said, racing towards the door and jumping into the passenger seat next to Andrew. “Go!”, he hissed as soon as he was inside, closing the window on his side as the unknown man started yelling. Andrew couldn't hear most of what he said, as the words were too slurred to make sense of them, but he thought he could make out the word “slut” before the window was closed.

The suddenness of the situation caught Andrew completely off-guard. He'd meant to reprimand Valentine right away, but the urgency of his request surpassed that as first priority. Therefore he stepped on the gas and drove away as fast as he could, hearing a soft _thud!_ as something hit the car from behind.

“Don't stop!”, Valentine urged him, but he wasn't planning to in the first place. If whatever that was did serious damage the last thing he wanted was to stay around whatever caused it, and if not then it was useless to dwell there anyway.

Soon enough Andrew turned the car in another direction and left that road behind, and at that point Valentine let out a sigh of relief.

 _What the fuck was that about?_ , Andrew couldn't help but wonder.

“Did you know that guy?”, he asked him, hoping for some kind of explanation.

“No!”, Valentine immediately replied, but then he sighed as if he had remembered something. “Well, I mean we talked before. I didn't know he had followed me”

“From the bar?”.

Andrew couldn't hide the anger in his voice, and Valentine flinched as if he'd thrown a punch at him. Which both seemed to fuel his anger and make him feel guilty for it at the same time.

_Why? What the fuck were you even doing there?_

“Yeah...”, he finally admitted, probably because it was useless to deny it at that point.

“Have you been drinking?”, Andrew asked again, glancing at him to check for any sign that he might be lying to him before the other could even speak.

“I've had a beer”, Valentine admitted, shrugging. “I didn't... I didn't go there to drink”

“So I take it you were there to study?”. Andrew couldn't hold back the snark in his voice, clenching his hands around the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles paled. “Why did you let yourself get dragged in such a place? Where the hell is Mi-”

He stopped himself as soon as he caught a whiff of something, parking on the nearest spot he could find before leaning towards the other and sniffing.

“W-What?”, Valentine blurted out, too quickly and sounding too guilty already.

“You've been smoking!”.

Andrew looked at him, incredulous.

_What the fuck was he even thinking?!_

“I have”, Valentine replied, his eyes downcast, and Andrew wasn't sure if hearing him admit to it made him feel any better or worse. He clearly wasn't under any impression that he wouldn't be upset by it, so why did he even do it in the first place?

He pressed his hands against his face, letting out a frustrated groan. He'd been imagining himself shouting at him and telling him just how worried he'd been while hearing some tirade about how “all the other teens are doing it” or some other shit like that, but now that he was there with him and Valentine was just sitting awkwardly looking uncomfortable and guilty he didn't even know what to say.

“What if I hadn't gotten there?”, he finally said, crossing his arms and staring at him sternly. “What did that lunatic even want from you?”.

“He was just drunk”, Valentine said, evasive. He wasn't looking at him, instead he seemed to be extremely interested in a small bug that was crawling outside the window.

“And what were you doing talking to a drunk?”

“I thought I was just being friendly”. Valentine shrugged. “He thought... otherwise”.

Andrew didn't like the sound of that.

“I'm going to _kill him_ ”.

Valentine snorted, and for a second looked like he was about to laugh.

“This is no laughing matter! You think being chased by a drunk pervert is funny?”

Andrew hadn't meant to rise his voice, but he felt like he was about to lose his patience. Just when he thought maybe Valentine was taking things seriously, he acted as if he'd told him a joke.

“I don't”, Valentine replied, and he also was starting to sound frustrated. “I was being chased by one just now you know”.

“Don't get sassy with me. You're in so much trouble-”

Valentine huffed and interrupted him.

“Look I didn't do anything! I didn't even drink-”

“You just told me you had a beer!”

“There's barely even alcohol in that!”

“You're not even seventeen yet!”

Valentine groaned. Andrew knew he hated when he brought that up, but he didn't care. It was the truth.

“You mean you never went to a bar at my age?”, his son asked, rolling his eyes.

“I didn't!”, Andrew replied, his irritation raising at his son's attitude.

_Oh no you're not pulling that card on me, don't even fucking try._

“You're right, you didn't have to”, Valentine retorted after a few moments, narrowing his eyes. “You were too busy fucking mom”.

Andrew was so taken aback that he didn't even comprehend what he had just heard for several seconds. Had he... was he having hallucinations again? He hadn't taken his pills yet, he couldn't do that while driving. Maybe that was why he thought he'd just heard Valentine say...

“I know were fucking her already because you turned eighteen when she was already pregnant. I've done the math”, Valentine continued, raising his voice and his head in defiance. “So you've got no fucking right to lecture me on what I should or should not do before I'm an adult when you knocked up a woman before you even were one!”

Andrew wasn't sure if he'd paled or turned red, or maybe somehow did both things at the same time. He knew Valentine was only trying to skirt responsibility, but he also knew he had a point, so he didn't know how to address the first thing without having to acknowledge the second.

“Just because I made mistakes at your age doesn't mean you should too”, he finally managed to say, his voice calmer and lower. “If your mom knew about this-”

Valentine let out a bitter chuckle.

“And what if she knew about your boyfriend?”, he asked, raising one eyebrow. “Oh, did you not tell her about that? I thought you told each other _everything_ ”.

Andrew was now sure he had paled. He also was sure he was sweating, because he could feel cold sweat drip down his back.

Valentine didn't wait for him to reply, his lips curving into a sardonic smile.

“I'm not gonna tell her. Don't worry”, the teen said, and Andrew let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

The relief only served to make him feel worse. Did Valentine despise him now? He must have, but he didn't sound like he was disgusted. Yet Andrew didn't understand why.

“Why did you marry mom?”, Valentine asked, tilting his head and staring at him as if he was examining him. It made Andrew feel extremely uncomfortable, especially given the oddity of that sudden question.

“Because I love her”, he replied, honestly. What other reason would he need? That was all there was to it, in the end.

“You love her”, Valentine repeated, as if he was mulling over that. “As...?”

“As?”. Andrew didn't understand the question.

“You love her as a friend?”, Valentine specified, sounding like he was trying to explain something really stupid that he was simply not getting, which didn't exactly help to make him any less confused. That whole conversation was just surreal. Why was he being interrogated on his marriage by his own son when he was supposed to be scolding him for acting like he was out of his mind?

“As a friend, as a companion, as my wife,”, he replied, shrugging. “As the mother of my son, as the one who's been there for me all along. As all of that, and much more. What are you trying to-”

“It was because she was pregnant, wasn't it?”.

Andrew didn't understand the connection at first, and then it hit him.

“What? No! Why would you think that?”, he asked him, confused and worried by that question. How did Valentine even come to that conclusion? He couldn't make sense of it.

“I was just thinking, you were both really young when it happened”, Valentine noted, eyeing him with suspicion. “You got married really quick too. As soon as you were eighteen. Mom told me that.”

Andrew didn't like the direction that talk was taking. He really didn't. It was making him want to jump out of there and run off, but he couldn't. It was of the utmost importance that he didn't leave him with the impression that any of that was founded on truth, because it was completely ridiculous.

Even if they _had_ rushed things as soon as it came out that she was pregnant. But they had still intended to get married eventually. Finding that out certainly hadn't changed that, and if anything it just made their conviction stronger. But how could he explain that to Valentine without making him think he was right?

“I really wanted to be with her for the rest of my life, as soon as possible. I only waited that long because my guardians were against it and would have gotten her in trouble”, he said, remembering his worry that his grandmother might accuse her of having taken advantage of him by making leverage on the fact that he was still underage while she was an adult, even if it was only one year of difference. He still was fairly sure she would have at least considered that if she'd known what he was planning.

“So you don't think it's too early to want to get married at seventeen”, Valentine said, skeptical. “What if _I_ wanted to get married? What if I already got a girl pregnant?”

Andrew felt his blood rush to his head immediately, but held back from saying anything because he was sure that was precisely what the other was trying to do: get him to be too angry to pay attention to his words and then use them against him.

“I don't mean to say it wasn't early, I only meant to say it wasn't some reparatory marriage or anything like that”, he finally replied. “I would worry if you were to do that simply because it's a big decision to make. We lucked out, but there's a lot of people for whom things haven't worked out so well precisely because they rushed into things without thinking”.

“Then it just so happened that mom was pregnant with me while you already intended to marry as soon as you turned eighteen”, Valentine concluded, his mouth twisting into a small smirk. “Quite convenient”.

“Why do you think I wouldn't have married her either way?”, Andrew insisted, feeling like he kept running into a wall. Had he done anything to make him think he didn't love Angela? Or that he regretted his marriage? He couldn't understand.

“Oh I couldn't possibly imagine why”, Valentine snarked, rolling his eyes.

“Valentine, _stop that_ ”.

The teen snorted in response.

“Alright then, why don't we change the subject”, his son said, looking straight into his eyes. “Why did you kiss him?”

_Oh._

Andrew almost regretted hoping the other would stop interrogating him on his marriage. The last thing he wanted was to talk about Alphonse again, and anything they had done – or that he'd believed they had done at least. He still wasn't sure of how much of it had been going on only in his mind and how much had been real.

“Well?”.

The tone was even more suspicious now, and Andrew knew if he said nothing it would only make things worse.

“I don't know why I did”, he said, and it wasn't exactly a lie. He knew it was because he was attracted to him but that didn't explain why he hadn't stopped himself for a million reasons including that he was fucking _married_. “Besides, I didn't _kiss_ him, I was kissed”.

“Oh yeah, that's _completely_ different”, Valentine scoffed at him, and Andrew felt his face heat up. Now he was sure he had turned red.

“It is. I was kissed, I didn't decide to do the kissing”, he insisted. “I had no choice in the matter”.

“No choice”, Valentine repeated, sounding as if he was tasting the words in his mouth. He seemed to be thinking hard about something, and Andrew had no idea of what that might be but he hoped whatever it was it would bring a stop to that exhausting conversation. He didn't have the energy to deal with it anymore. He only wanted to go home and collapse on his bed and try not to think that he'd have to somehow find a way to face another day with Alphonse sitting in front of him in the same office.

He didn't have to wonder for much longer however, because Valentine didn't even say anything. He just acted.

He moved in so suddenly that Andrew barely realized he'd gotten so close until he was breathing in his face, and when he opened his mouth to ask him _“What is it now”_ he never actually got the chance because Valentine quickly shoved his against it and kissed him, grasping on his face with both hands.

There was a split second in which Andrew almost tasted Alphonse's cigarettes on him, almost thought he saw a glimpse of the other's pitch black eyes in his and was terrified he'd be unable to do anything again – then he felt his son's tongue touch his lips and he snapped, pushing him off of himself so violently that he sent him flying against the opposite door.

“What the _FUCK_?!”

Valentine smirked at him, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Oh, my bad. I thought you had 'no choice in the matter'?”, he said, tilting his head. “Doesn't seem like it to me”.

Andrew was so livid he heard nothing but static in his ears as he glared at his son, feeling something akin to betrayal well up in his stomach. He hated the smug look the other was giving him, as if he knew it all when he had no fucking idea of what he'd been through in the last months. He was shocked that he'd even _think_ of doing something like that in the first place.

But most of all, most of all he was angry at himself, because all he told himself about how he'd been completely unable to reject the other man had been made to collapse like a house of cards thanks to the recklessness of a teenage boy.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
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> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	22. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew needs a hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd meant to post sooner but I was at a Celtic festival this weekend. Only had access to my PC again today and there were still a few things to tweak in the chapter.
> 
> I also haven't managed to write a lot so next chapter is still in mid-writing, albeit almost done. I'm a bit nervous for the upcoming ones cause I don't wanna rush chapters and post something I'm not convinced of if I feel I can't make it in time, so if it comes down to it I'll change the schedule rather than write with my ass. 
> 
> I'm going to try my best to keep it up cause I want to give you weekly chapters but not at the expense of quality.

 

“Damn Andy, you look awful. Are you alright?”

Andrew smiled weakly and almost let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah, just didn't sleep too well”.

_More like didn't sleep at all._

He felt like he was on the verge of collapsing at any minute, to the point where he regretted not calling in sick. But he could imagine what Stevenson would think of that.

“I'm going to get some coffee.”

He didn't look at Alphonse as he moved towards the coffee machine, not even when he walked right next to him. Despite his promise to Derrick he had tried to look at him as little as possible and didn't think he could handle anything more than that in his current state.

As he put the coin in the slot and selected his coffee, he had the fleeting thought that maybe he should go to the bathroom and splash some cold water on his face, but then the memory of what happened in there came rushing back to him and he felt a sudden urge to throw up.

_Calm down... calm down... it's not going to happen again..._

Well, he guessed if he were to be precise it probably didn't happen then either, but that didn't stop him from having to wipe away the sweat that collected on his forehead despite the air conditioning in the office, his stomach still roiling at the thought of the other man's touch on his body...

_Fuck, stop that!_

He felt weak and cowardly, and the coffee he started sipping on right away didn't seem to make much of a difference. Still, he forced himself to walk back to his desk, wondering just how he was going to push himself to focus on work for the next seven hours – and that was hoping there wouldn't be any reason to do overtime. He didn't think he'd be able to even if there was.

_I'm never skipping my meds again._

  


  


He'd been exhausted, completely utterly exhausted when he had gotten back home with Valentine.

Neither of them had said a word to each other for the rest of the trip, but it hadn't been a peaceful silence. The tension had been maddening, to the point where he had to fight back the urge to speed up and get back as soon as possible so that he'd be out of the car and away from his son.

He had been shaking for the whole time, hands clenched tight around the steering wheel, but he still wasn't sure if it hadn't been in anger, fear or something different altogether.

He had wanted to scream at him and at the same time he'd been terrified to hear anything more that the other could say. He occasionally glanced towards the boy, but at that point Valentine wasn't looking at him any more. He had been staring outside of the window for the whole time, the stubborn look on his face reflected on the glass, the street lights casting harsh and ever-changing shadows on his features.

_He really takes after Angela._

Not in looks, as in that regard the boy was almost a carbon copy of his father, with his lighter skin and dark brown eyes being the two most noticeable differences. But as for his personality, Andrew felt like they had very little in common and he could easily see her in him at times. Sometimes it was hard for him to not let him step over the line, and he hated having to be stern with him, so every argument with Valentine left a sour taste in his mouth.

_Maybe Charles was right... I really have no idea of what I'm doing._

Once they finally had gotten home, Andrew had murmured a hasty “good night” and walked past him before he could hear him reply, going straight towards the bedroom.

He had found Angela there, but she was already asleep and looked like she'd been for a while, so he went ahead and started preparing himself to go to bed. If nothing else that would postpone the issue of whether to tell her or not about Valentine's antics. That had given him some relief.

He was still angry at him and his recklessness, but he didn't know how he could possibly tell her about it after what Valentine had said and done. Besides, what if she went to scold him and he told her about what he had seen a certain night, about the kiss Andrew had shared with Alphonse right on their doorstep?

“ _I'm not gonna tell her. Don't worry”_.

But why?

He hadn't gotten the chance to ask him before Valentine had started questioning him, but even if he had... he wasn't entirely sure he'd have wanted to know the answer. Whatever had been going on in Valentine's mind since then, it was clear that the event had triggered all sorts of weird ideas.

“ _It was because she was pregnant, wasn't it?”._

Andrew had still been shocked by remembering about it. They had never told Valentine about the circumstances of his birth, still if he had been mulling about it, it wasn't exactly hard to figure out. Simply a matter of noticing how the numbers wouldn't otherwise add up.

Andrew had never thought it'd be important to mention it, it was such a non-issue to him. Yes part of what Valentine had said was true, they'd gotten married really early, and it wasn't _entirely_ false that one of the reasons was the fact that she was pregnant with his son.

_But I didn't feel pressured to marry her! I love her, I always have! I've always wanted to be with her. Hell, I gave up my own family to be with her!_

He still remembered how nobody showed up for him at the marriage, except for a couple acquaintances. He had pretended it hadn't gotten to him, but it did.

His Grandma and Charles were the closest thing to a family he ever had. Not that he didn't have fond memories of his mother but they were a bit vague. She'd left him in her parents' care when he was young because... well, to put it nicely, she hadn't been in the best situation herself.

If his own son judged him for having had a child shortly before he was eighteen then what would he have thought of his grandmother for giving birth to him when she was even younger than he was now, Andrew had bitterly wondered at the memory.

_At least he's had a father._

He'd never known his own but maybe it was for the best. All his grandparents had told him was that his mother had gotten involved with some older rich guy. He hadn't realized at the time, but in hindsight it became clear to him that given his mother's age and what he knew of her, his father was probably some older white perv who paid an “exotic teen” for her time and ran off as soon as he realized he had gotten her pregnant.

The mere thought of being related to someone like that disgusted Andrew. Whoever his father was, he was a scumbag of the lowest level. He'd never be anything like that. And he never could have abandoned his own child like his father did, not even if he hadn't loved Angela.

_But I did! And I do,_ he quickly had thought. If Valentine had gotten it in his head that... whatever had happened with Alphonse somehow meant his whole marriage had been some sort of cover-up, he was wrong.

“ _Then it just so happened that mom was pregnant with me while you already intended to marry as soon as you turned eighteen”._

Andrew had tried to push the memory of those words away, focusing on brushing his teeth and all the other menial tasks he'd have to do before going to bed, but they had kept on echoing in his head.

That... had been a bit of a stretch.

Not exactly a _lie_ , but not quite the truth either.

He had been wanting to be with her, since before. Maybe he hadn’t thought of marriage specifically, but wasn’t that the logical conclusion?

Sure, maybe if it had been his choice he wouldn’t have wanted to do it so quickly...

_But it's not like I regret it!_

He just, well, it wasn't quite what he had intended to do. In a way he guessed yes, his hand was pushed. But he had been happy about the outcome so why should it matter?

_Maybe it was destiny._

He had almost snorted out loud at the thought. Yeah right. As if he'd start to believe that, out of all people.

_What else could I do? I couldn't lose her. And I wouldn't have had my family if it wasn't for it. My real family._

In the end it all worked out in the best way, even if it wasn't quite what he had meant to do. Wasn't that all that mattered?

Still, Andrew couldn't help but wish he'd never had that conversation with Valentine.

“ _Quite convenient”._

Somehow, even if he knew the other was wrong, he couldn't get rid of that sour feeling that his words had left him.

  


As he had walked back to the bedroom and changed into his pajamas, Andrew had given up on changing his mood. He simply accepted that he was going to be miserable and hoped maybe he'd feel better in the morning.

It had been so much, all at once, what with coming clean about Alphonse with Derrick and then finding out his son had been smoking and drinking in secret and for all he knew maybe it wasn't even the first time, and then that dreadful conversation in the car. He was exhausted, he was angry and frustrated, he wanted to punch things and at the same time he wanted to drop dead on the floor and not move for a hundred years. In short, he felt like shit.

He had glanced briefly at Angela while sneaking under the sheets, trying his best not to disturb her sleep. In that moment he had wished she was awake, because at least she would have listened to him even if he didn't know what to tell her, and he had been sure she would have known what to say to make him feel better because she always did.

He had considered trying to wake her up, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to. So in the end he had snuggled in closer and looked at her as she slept, feeling his eyelids growing heavier.

That was when he had suddenly realized he hadn't taken his pills. At that point he'd been both too tired and too unmotivated to do it so he had merely closed his eyes and shrugged off his worries.

_It won't be too bad if it's just once._

He knew he was supposed to stick with it but he hadn't been able to bring himself to care enough to get up and retrieve his meds. It still wasn't ingrained in his routine so he always consciously had to remind himself to do it, and in the mess of that evening it had slipped his mind.

He was starting to drift into sleep when he'd felt a hand touch his shoulder.

“Hn...Ange?”, he had mumbled out, stiffening a bit and moving his arm to encounter hers. Much to his relief his fingers had encountered her outstretched arm, confirming his intuition.

“Sorry, didn't wanna wake you”, he had said, his words slurred as he fought against the incoming sleep.

“Shh”, was all she had said before leaning in closer and holding him, her sweet scent enveloping him as he felt her hair brush his nose.

He had felt grateful for that, her smell and her warmth were so reassuring, he didn't even need her words to start feeling a bit better.

She'd started stroking his back, making him relax completely. He had let out a contented sigh, in that moment he felt like how he was sure Heaven would feel, and he didn't even want to fall asleep if he could just bask in that feeling for a while longer.

Then one hand had brushed his hip, moving first on the outside and then on the inside of his thigh, and at first he hadn't minded, but it had kept on moving higher and higher until its fingers brushed on his balls and then closed around his shaft, stroking it gently but firmly.

“Hn... no, Ange, I'm tired”, he had groaned, pushing it off only for it to come back again, touching him until he had started to grow hard despite his state. “Angela, plea- _mhff!_ ”

His protests got suddenly muffled by her lips, her hand moving from his back to his hair, keeping his head still. In the meanwhile the other hand had started to move faster, and in spite of his muffled protests Andrew could feel himself grow hard.

_Not now... I can't,_ he had thought, but he was too weak to pull back from her grip. He had tried to push the other hand away from his semi-erect cock, wrapping his other fingers around it to hold it tightly, but then something wet and soft suddenly had touched his fingers and after a few startling seconds his foggy mind had recognized the sensation, making him realize he was being _licked._

_Alphonse!_ , he thought, his blood suddenly running cold, and as soon as Angela's mouth left his the other man's scent wafted towards Andrew's nose, making him shiver.

He had barely started to form a protest in his mind, trying to make the words form together in a way that would make sense, when she started licking his ear and nibbling on his earlobe, making him moan softly and lose his trail of thought.

“Tell me what you want”, she had whispered, her hand moving down on his chest to play with one of his nipples.

_Not... not this!,_ was all that Andrew could think, and then the man underneath the cover stopped licking his fingers, but before he could even begin to feel relief that wet tongue moved on his cock and he cried out in pleasure and shock, trying to move his hips back only for the man's hands to grasp on his ass and keep him still.

“Ah...Ange...p-please...”, he had whimpered, forcing his eyes open, but her hair was covering his sight like a curtain.

He had tried to focus but he was unable to think straight, especially when his cock was suddenly engulfed in the other man's mouth and it felt good, it felt _way too good_ and he couldn't even stop himself from moving his hips and thrusting himself further inside it.

“What is it that you really want?”, she had insisted, before her mouth moved down to his neck and her teeth clamped down in a playful bite, chuckling as he cried in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Her lips had moved down along his throat, leaving a trail of licks, kisses and bites, and Andrew couldn't do anything but whimper and tremble at those combined attentions.

As her head had moved lower, mouth closing on one of his nipples to suck and nibble on the sensitive skin, someone else had moved behind him, Alphonse's head emerging from underneath the covers as his hand grasped on his chin and forced him to turn around, looking straight into his pitch black eyes.

“Who is it that you really want?”, he had asked, his lips spreading into a grin and claiming Andrew's before he could even attempt to answer.

He couldn’t think, he couldn’t focus, and he almost felt as if he was going to be torn apart, pleasure surging through him from the simultaneous attack. When Alphonse let go of his lips it was Angela’s turn to claim them, and Andrew grasped on the other man’s hea-

His heart skipped a beat. He felt Alphonse chuckle against his ear and his breath and his _mouth_ was there so who was…?

His hand fisted the other’s hair and pulled hard enough to rip some, and the mouth left his cock with a small whine that sent a cold shock down Andrew’s back. He yanked off his sheet only to find himself staring straight into Valentine’s eyes, lips curled up into a mocking grin.

“Oh, my bad. I thought you had no choice?”, the boy said, tilting his head to the side. “Doesn't seem like it to me”.

_N-_

  


“-ooOH!”

He had jolted awake, body covered in sweat and heart hammering in his chest, then had stumbled blindly out of the bed while struggling to free himself from the covers, pulling them halfway off from the bed.

“Hnn, Andy? What is…?”

He hadn’t even waited for her to finish asking before darting out of the room and reaching for the bathroom, banging the door open and dropping on his knees to empty the contents of his stomach inside of the toilet.

He had stayed there for what felt like hours, doing nothing but retching and sobbing and spitting, his whole body shaking as he tried to push the memory of his nightmare out of his head.

_What the fuck,_ _**what the fuck** _ _?!_

“Andrew are you ok?”

He had looked up at his wife, barely making out her form in the darkness. In his current state that uncertainty was more than he could take.

“Can you-” he had to cough, his voice hoarse from the vomiting. “Can you turn on the light?”

She had hummed softly before doing so, the bright artificial light harshly illuminating her features. She had looked at him with half-lidded eyes, her face a mask of confusion and tiredness. He hadn't been able to hold back a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry, I had-”

“A nightmare”, she had concluded, rubbing the bridge of her nose and letting out a frustrated groan. “Didn’t… didn’t you go to the doctor?”

“Yeah, yeah… he got me pills. I forgot to take them. I’m sorry”.

She had sighed too, then she had crouched down to pet his hair, pulling it out of his face. It was drenched in sweat and possibly vomit so he tried to brush off her hand, but she insisted.

“Angie no, it’s filthy-”

“Then we’ll shower. Come on. You’re not going back to bed in that state”.

She had helped him up and then made him sit in the bathtub, flushing and cleaning up the toilet while he took off his underwear. He then realized that the wetness of the fabric wasn’t just from the sweating, and his stomach had started roiling again.

_Fuck._

“Come on, give that to me”. She had reached out to take it and he had pulled back, clumping it up into a ball to hide the stain. She humpfed but didn't do anything to stop him from launching it into the laundry basket. He knew she was going to find it eventually but he didn’t want her to ask, not in that moment.

“Do you want me to wash you?”, she had asked, moving in closer to pet his hair, and for some reason he'd felt like he was going to cry again. He hadn't been able to find his voice so he had nodded, leaning into her touch.

He hadn't said say a word as she took the showerhead and tested the temperature, then used some soap to wash him gently. He’d never had a dog but he still couldn’t help but imagine that this was how you would bathe one, and even in that state the concept brought him some amusement. He supposed he should have felt pathetic and he probably would, but her touch was so reassuring and kind and it made him feel grounded.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He had tensed up at her words, the word “no” barely escaping his lips and sounding more like a croaked sob than anything comprehensible, but either she heard it or she guessed from his reaction.

“Alright then. It’s ok. It’s gone now. You’re with me.”

Andrew had nodded and grasped on her, pushing his face against her stomach. He'd been able to feel her warmth through her shirt and all around him as she wrapped her arms around him, as if to shield him from the outside. She was there with him and she was real. He was safe with her. She wouldn’t hurt him.

He hadn’t even realized he’d started crying until she had crouched down to look at him and kissed his lips, forcing him to lift his chin and look back at her.

“Shh, it’s ok. I’ll help you get well. I’ll remind you to take your medicines next time”, she had murmured, wiping his tears with her thumbs. “It’s gonna be ok, Andrew. Everything is going to be alright”.

Her voice had sounded so reassuring, for a moment Andrew felt like he could almost believe it.

Or at least he had wished to.

  


Neither of them had bothered to get back to bed afterwards, with Angela deciding to use the spare time to work on her painting and Andrew laying on the couch hoping to doze off as he watched her work. But even if he hadn't felt as bad as before he'd been too anxious of what his subconscious would bring up once he closed his eyes. Therefore he laid there, staring at her painting in a sort of half-conscious state in which the colours on the canvas had seemed to melt together and morph into abstract shapes. A couple times he would have sworn he'd seen a pair of black eyes staring at him, jolting him awake, but then he had realized it was only a trick of the light.

When the time came to get ready to work he was almost more tired than he had been before getting to bed, while putting on an unconvincing cheerful act whenever Angela had insisted that really he should take the day off and his boss couldn’t fire him for that.

_I wouldn’t count on that,_ he had thought but hadn’t bothered to argue it. She wasn’t in the office with him so she couldn’t know the extent of his nastiness.

Plus, it wasn’t only the fear of getting fired that held him back, and to be fair he suspected he wouldn’t do it. No, what he would do would be to make his life much more difficult simply because he could. Wouldn’t have been the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

  
  


So that was how he found himself in his current predicament, counting the hours left before he could go back home and crawl into his bed, swallow his pills and hopefully dream of nothing for nine hours straight.

He realized he was spacing out more often than usual, staring out of the window or at the wall in front of him, so he tried to focus on the small details to keep himself grounded. The two tall buildings outside, beyond the big windows on the left. The two posters on the wall with pictures of kittens and the motivational one in black-on-white lettering. The buzzing of the coffee machine in the background. He was starting to get a headache, and that sound he barely paid attention to on a normal day now seemed to drill into his brain.

Derrick kept glancing at him from time to time, looking like he wanted to talk but Andrew did his best to avoid any interaction. Much like he was in no state to deal with Alphonse’s presence and the way it pushed him on edge, he also was in no state to deal with the younger man’s questions that would inevitably follow if he knew he hadn’t slept.

It was none of his business anyway. He didn’t owe him anything. In fact he kind of resented the fact that he’d gotten him to tell him something so personal as if they were buddies. Why did he try so hard to get chummy with him anyway? What did he gain from it? Andrew didn’t know, but he knew that he didn’t trust it. For all he knew the whole tirade about the atmosphere in the office and all that jazz had been nothing more than an excuse to get him to spill his beans. Maybe he had played right into his hands. Hell, for all he knew maybe the whole office was laughing behind his back as soon as he was out of hearing distance.

Was that how it would be from then on, he couldn’t help but wonder. Would he start finding his workspace vandalized, or his belongings in the toilet? Would he walk up to his desk only to be welcomed by a giant-lettered _FAGGOT_ scribbled across it?

The incident outside the bar flashed back to his mind, the insult and the sound of shattered glass and hurried footsteps as the cowards scurried away like rats from Alphonse’s response, all mingling with older and more painful memories that spilled out like pus from festering wounds.

He tried to tell himself to stop thinking about it, but it was like picking at a scab. It hurt and he knew it would only make things worse, yet he couldn’t stop himself. And the more his mind started picturing all the ways in which he would be humiliated and mocked the more anxious he became, until he had to rush to the toilet to throw up, his fear of the place overpowered by his nausea.

“I sure hope you've not been out drinking”.

Andrew froze up as soon as he left the stall, finding himself face to face with Mr. Stevenson.

“I'm... it's nothing. Must have eaten something bad”, he replied, hurrying to wash his face in the sink so that he could get out of there as fast as possible.

The other man however didn't seem so keen on the idea, putting himself between him and the door and giving him a stern look, his icy blue eyes narrowing in a way that made Andrew's stomach clench up again.

“Something bad, huh. Yeah I bet”, he almost spat out, mouth twisting into a disgusted grimace. “You know this office has a zero-tolerance policy on drugs, don't you?”.

Andrew wanted to groan, but he knew better. “Sir, please. I've got to get back to my-”

“I've been lenient with you, Murray, cause you're a family man. I hope you realize that”, Stevenson cut him off, crossing his arms and lowering his voice. “Personally speaking I've never trusted the likes of yours, but I'm hoping to be proven wrong for once”. He eyed him up and down and Andrew had the distinct impression of being x-rayed by his cold glare. “I've got my eye on you, boy. Now get back to your job”

Andrew barely held back a sigh of relief.

“Yes sir”, he said, walking past him and feeling his gaze on his back for the whole time, even as he sat back to his chair. The unpleasant encounter had left him with a lingering feeling of unease, which didn't help with his already fragile mental state.

For what concerned him, the end of his shift couldn't come soon enough.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	23. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck this shit I'm out (mhm)  
> Fuck this shit I'm out (No thanks)  
> Don't mind me  
> I'ma just grab my stuff and leave  
> Excuse me please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Everyone's favourite(?) stinky boy returns once again!~~

 

The next day, when Andrew came to the office he was greeted by an unexpected sight as all of his co-workers were standing in front of the door and murmuring to themselves, most of them with an annoyed look on their face.

Looking around until he saw a familiar red-head, he immediately walked in that direction and slipped past the others until he reached his target.

“What's going on?”, he asked Derrick, hoping he might have some insight on the situation.

“Drug testing”, the other replied in a small whisper. “Apparently someone made a report so now the whole office has to go through with it”.

Andrew felt his stomach clench, remembering his conversation in the bathroom.

_Fucking bastard._

Derrick was looking particularly nervous, and knowing him Andrew would not have been surprised if he had a little stash of marijuana hidden somewhere in the mess of his house. Hopefully he wasn't dumb enough to smoke on a workday, then again Andrew had no idea of whether it would show up even if the other hadn't touched it for a while. Some drugs could still show up on tests, couldn't they?

Then...

_Would my meds show up?_

He froze as he realized he didn't know the answer to that. He never really had been in that sort of situation before. Some meds were technically drugs weren't they?

Feeling his stomach clench, Andrew wiped away the cold sweat that was starting to form on his forehead and looked aside – jostling up with a loud gasp as his eyes encountered Alphonse's, the man standing right next to him and staring at him without a word.

“Andy wha- whoa! Man you startled me”, Derrick said, sounding half surprised and half frustrated. “I hate when you do that, Al. That's some horror movie shit right there”.

“Sorry. What's this fuss all about?”, Alphonse asked, his eyes still pointed at Andrew, who looked away and felt his stomach twist in a way that made him start to feel nauseous again.

“Drug testing”, Derrick replied for him. “Someone made a report and now they're calling us one by one to get our blood taken or to piss in a cup”. He kept shifting his weight and fidgeting with his hands the same way he did when he was behind on his work and Stevenson gravitated around their workstation like a vulture.

“Is that so...”, Alphonse replied, sounding like he was mulling over something. Andrew was sure he saw him glance to his own jacket for a second and was reminded of the man's cigarettes... if they really were just cigarettes.

_Seems like we're all gonna be fucked, huh._

Somehow the thought of all three of them getting kicked out at the same time for the same reason was kind of amusing, in an odd sort of deranged way. With no one working at his project Stevenson was going to be fucked seven ways from Sunday. It was a meagre consolation, but Andrew felt like he had to take humour in something if he didn't want to go mad.

  


Following the test was an overly-long speech from Stevenson and some other supervisor that Andrew didn't remember the name of (something ending in “ton”), and the announcement that they'd know the results in about a week.

Even if the girl who had collected his sample had reassured him that antipsychotics would be ruled out when examining positive results and even so it would be fine as long as he could prove it was a prescribed medication, Andrew still couldn't help but feel nervous. The prospect of Stevenson potentially finding out why he was taking meds was not one he wanted to think of. He was sure the man would find ways to use it against him even if it was technically illegal for him to.

  


There wasn't much chatting going on at his workstation that day. Andrew figured they were all too worried to feel like making small talk. He wasn't sure if it made him feel better or worse, either way he still had the same lingering feeling of unease at he pit of his stomach. He kept feeling like something was off, but he chalked it up to the unusual start of the day.

Still, as he looked out of the window and stared at the lone tall building outside, his stomach clenched up again for no reason.

“Derrick, do you... wasn't there a newspaper company somewhere nearby?”, he asked, tilting his head as if to see if it would change anything.

“Hm? Maybe. No idea. Why?”

“Oh... no reason”

_I could have sworn_ -

“No reason at all”, he repeated in a softer tone, looking back at his work.

They continued to work in silence for a while, until someone cleared her throat in their proximity and they all looked up from their screens. It was a woman who worked a few desks away from them, with a name like Barbara or Rebecca and a long mane of curly blonde hair. She was often the target of Stevenson's comments and he seemed to treat her more like a secretary at times than an analyst, which she didn't seem too happy about. There were rumours that he offered her extra money for “favours”, but Andrew had no idea of whether that was true or just overblown gossip.

“Mr Stevenson asked to see you”, she told Alphonse. She threw a glance at Andrew before walking away, and he couldn't help but wonder if she did that for any specific reason. Did Stevenson say anything about him? If he did, Andrew was sure it was nothing good.

“What does the old bastard want now?”, Derrick grumbled, while Alphonse shrugged and got up.

“Probably to know how far along we are, I imagine”.

“Why didn't he ask Andrew then? He's the senior”.

Andrew felt his face heat up at that comment. He knew he was right, then again the less time he had to spend around his boss the better, so he didn't mind. If that was Stevenson's idea of undermining him, which it probably was, then Andrew wished all of his ideas were like that.

As soon as Alphonse was gone from the room, Derrick gave him a look that Andrew didn't like, so he pretended to be extremely focused on his work.

“Have you thought of-”

“Shh”, Andrew cut him off, not even looking at him. “Not now”.

“Andy. You promised you'd talk to him”, Derrick insisted, sounding both annoyed and determined. A combination that Andrew really didn't care for.

“I did no such thing. Besides I can't talk to him now”, he replied, hoping that'll be the last of it but he had his doubts.

In fact, the other man snorted and threw an eraser at him, which he caught in mid-air. He recognized it as one of his own that he had similarly used against him before.

“You know what I mean. It doesn't have to be in the office. In fact it's probably better if it's not”, Derrick said, then he seemed to remember something. “We never did go out drinking, did we?”

_I can't drink,_ he almost said, holding back as he realized that would mean being questioned on why. He had already shared far too much than he was comfortable with the other. So he kept quiet and waited for him to continue.

“Maybe that can be the occasion”, the other man reasoned, thinking to himself for a while before frowning. “I'm not sure if I should tell Susan”.

“Tell her what?”, Andrew asked, confused for a few moments before it occurred to him. “Oh, she wouldn't approve?”

“She might want to come”.

Andrew still failed to see the problem in that.

“So?”

Derrick hesitated, scratching the back of his head.

“Well I mean it's our thing, and it's kind of a guy's night”, he said, not quite looking at him in the eyes. “Wouldn't it be awkward?”

Andrew raised one eyebrow.

“I guess you don't want her to know who you think has the best tits in the off-”

“Fuck off”

Andrew couldn't hold back a grin, knowing he had hit the bullseye. Before he could say anything more, however, he heard the door behind them open and turned around to see Alphonse come out of Stevenson's office.

And head for the exit door.

_What the...?_

“Huh, wonder what the old bastard wanted from... hey where are you going!?”.

Derrick tried to grasp on his arm but he avoided it, pressing a finger against his lip to tell him to stay quiet.

“I'll be right back. If Mr. Stevenson asks, I went to the toilet”, he whispered before making his way towards the door.

“Andy! Oh come on!”, Derrick whispered back, and Andrew could hear him sigh before he reached the door, making his way out there as fast as he could in order to catch up to his target.

_Where the hell is he going?_

He barely saw him turn behind the corner and had to rush in order to keep up, worried he'd lose sight of him. He was lucky enough to catch the glimpse of a closing door as he reached the end of the corridor and turned right, walking up to it and looking for the sign, but there was none.

His hand went to the door handle, but he hesitated. The memory of the last time he had opened a door and found himself alone in the same room as him flashed back and his entire body stiffened.

_No,_ he thought, _that wasn't real._

Knowing that didn't stop his hand from clenching down, frozen in place. He didn't want to go in. Every warning bell in his head screamed at him to turn back and ignore whatever weird business he was up to.

_Isn't that where the archive is?_

He probably was there to recover some old documents. But then, that made it all the more odd that Stevenson would ask Alphonse to do that. It was the sort of menial task that he'd normally love to give to him instead, making him waste time to find some dusty old papers that he might not have even needed in the first place. Just to show him that he could make him do it, looking at him as if he dared him to complain. To give him even one single reason to make his life harder.

In fact, that was precisely what he was risking to do, and it was one more reason why he should turn around and get back to his desk.

“ _...Andy?”_

He thought he had heard a voice. Was that... no, it wasn't Alphonse's. Yet it sounded familiar.

It also sounded like it came from the other side of the door.

_No..._

He couldn't stop himself from opening that door any more than he could have stopped himself from shaking, holding his breath and bracing himself for what he would find inside.

Except the room was empty.

_Oh hell no._

“Alphonse?”, he called out, confused. Was he playing tricks on him? He didn't think the other had seen him following him, but maybe he was wrong. Still, there was no answer.

_Get the fuck away from there NOW._

But he didn't. Instead, he looked around to see if anyone had noticed before walking inside, closing the door behind himself. His own mind kept screaming at him in horror but he tried to ignore it. He was being ridiculous. The other wasn't even there, why should he be scared of an empty room in the first place?

Looking around, he tried to see if there was anywhere the other could have gone to. All he could see were shelves filled with boxes and folders of documents, or piles of them tied up together. A folded up ladder. A closet door...

He walked towards it, pulling it open, and found himself facing a corridor.

_What the..._

He peeked out and tried looking around, but it didn't seem like anywhere he'd been before in the building. How was that even there? If anything, shouldn't there be another room?

He hesitated for a bit, considering his options. The other had to have gone somewhere there, hadn't he? He couldn't have walked back without him noticing. So he probably could have found him if he kept looking.

Yet the horrible, uneasy feeling was getting worse by the second, his stomach roiling like when he'd gone back into that hotel.

_You know what, fuck this. I'm out._

Holding back the urge to slam the door shut, he closed it again and went out from where he came from, turning left to get back to his office.

He had to stop in his tracks once he realized that was not the right corridor.

_Wasn't it... must have been the other way._

He turned back and went in the other direction, even if he was sure that hadn't been where he came from. But he also was sure that wasn't the corridor that lead to his office.

_Don't tell me I've managed to get lost. Fucking great. Thanks, Al,_ he thought, albeit he knew it wasn't the other man's fault if he had decided to get nosy. No, it was his own damn fault for being so paranoid, as always. What exactly did he think he would find anyway? Top secret files?

Walking up to the other turn, he gave it a look but it was pointless. That wasn't the right one either.

“Where the fuck am I now”, he groaned, even if there was no one in there to hear him. In fact he hadn't seen anyone since he got out of his office.

_I don't like this._

There was something very wrong about that whole thing. He didn't know what, but he could feel it. He even pinched himself to see if he was dreaming, but everything felt so very real.

_What the fuck is going on?_

He had no idea, but what he did know was that he was going to feel sick if he didn't find a way to stop his head from pounding like that. Wiping away some sweat from his forehead, he made his way back to the door and rested his face against it, placing his ear on the wooden surface to try and see if he could hear anything.

_He's in here, isn't he?_

He couldn't hear a sound, and when he went back in there nothing seemed to have changed. The shelves were still there, and so was the ladder. Outside of the closet door he could still see -

_Didn't I..._

\- the corridor from before.

_...close it?_

His heart was thumping with the same rhythm as his pulsating headache. His skin was cold but he was sweating as if he'd been running a marathon. He didn't want to be there, but he didn't know where else to go, so he forced his feet forward and went out into the unknown corridor, trying to find a sign of the other's passage.

He could barely make it in time to hear someone's footsteps and then the sound of a door closing, practically running after it and managing to see the handle moving back up in its original position.

“Alphonse!”, he called out, opening the door and-

He found himself facing a corridor. He peeked out and tried looking around, but it didn't seem like anywhere he'd been before in the building. Why was it there? It didn't make any sense. Was he going insane?

He took a turn to the left, placing a hand against the wall to steady himself, the other pressed against his stomach. His legs were shaking and he could barely walk. His head felt like someone had jammed glass shards into his brain, and his neck was drenched in sweat, making the collar of his shirt feel even more constricting than usual. He opened up the first buttons but he still couldn't breathe without feeling the waves of nausea washing over him.

_I've got to find a bathroom._

If he went into a random office he could just use the one there. However it seemed all of the doors were closed. He tried the first five in a row without success, only to push himself forward and wait a few metres before trying the ones on the other side, with the same exact result.

_Fuck!_

He slammed his hand against the last one, the pain a mild distraction to the one assaulting his head, and he could feel the panic rising and making him feel even sicker.

“Goddammit... why won't you... fucking open?”, he growled, hitting it again and again before letting his arms slide against it as he collapsed, banging his head in frustration and hissing when that made everything spin for a second. He didn't know what was happening to him but he couldn't even stand up.

“What are you doing here?”

  
Alphonse's voice caught him by surprise even if he had been looking for him. Where had he even come from?

He turned around and stared at him, feeling like his tongue was stuck. What was he even supposed to say? That he was-

“You were following me”, Alphonse said, in a tone that Andrew couldn't quite decipher. He didn't sound surprised, but he seemed... perplexed? No, that wasn't quite right.

“I thought you wanted me to stay away from you. Isn't that what you said?”, the man continued, stalking towards him in a way that made him feel like a cornered animal. “Well, not the exact words you used, to be precise. I believe that would be 'leave me the fuck alone' “.

Andrew knew he should have apologized or said something to explain, but in that moment he did in fact want the other to stay far away from him because the closer he got and the more his mind screamed at him to get up and run, yet his body wouldn't respond and he was left frozen in place unable to say or do anything as Alphonse stood before him and stared down at the curled up, trembling mess of a man that he was speaking to.

“You're still drawn to me, aren't you?”, he asked, his hand descending to touch Andrew's hair, and the contact made Andrew recoil as if a cockroach had landed on his head. This however didn't seem to faze Alphonse, who smiled in a way that made his blood curdle.

“I was curious to see how much you would struggle, how long would it be before you came chasing me”, the man said, and Andrew felt his face burn and immediately snapped:

“I didn't come chasing you-”

“You most certainly did”, Alphonse interrupted him, and Andrew grit his teeth as he didn't have anything to retort to that. Technically he wasn't _wrong_ but what he was implying was.

“This isn't-”, Andrew had to interrupt himself as he gagged and almost retched, the other's smell not doing any favours to his already upset stomach. “This isn't right”

“And you're always so concerned about what's right, aren't you, _Andy_?”, Alphonse asked, his hand coming down on his hair again and grasping on it before he could draw back. “What a sad way to live”.

“I was fine until you came along”, Andrew groaned, trying to force himself to get up and push him away but Alphonse put his other hand on his shoulder and held him down, letting out a small chuckle.

“You were 'fine'? Really?”, he asked, the hand on Andrew's hair moving down to grasp his chin and forcing him to look up at him. “Is your understanding of reality really that flawed?”. He sounded equal parts incredulous and amused, and his smug expression made Andrew want to punch him but he was too weak... once again he was too weak to fight back against him and he hated himself for it.

He could hear a song in the background... or at least he thought he did. He couldn't make out the words but the melody was impossible to mistake for any other.

“I guess it's true what they say, if you keep telling something to yourself often enough you will start believing it”, Alphonse said, his fingers pushing past Andrew's lips and caressing his tongue before slipping in further, pressing against the back of his throat until he gagged and choked, grasping on his wrist to try and make him pull his fingers out. His hand might as well have been made of iron as no matter how hard Andrew pulled it did not budge, and even when he bit down on his fingers there was no reaction from Alphonse.

“You've got a weird scent about you”, the man said, eyes narrowing and staring down at him with an intent expression, as if he was studying him. “What's that all about?”

Andrew couldn't have responded even if he had wanted to, his throat clamping up against the intrusion and his teeth sinking into the other's flesh until a foreign taste invaded his mouth. He coughed and retched, fighting against the bile rising up from his stomach, until the other's fingers finally slipped out and he could gasp for air. His tongue felt strangely numb, and so did part of his lips, and when Alphonse raised his hand to look at it Andrew could see he had managed to draw blood. He could feel it dribbling down his lips together with his spit, and the sensation filled him with a sort of malicious glee.

_That's what you get for being a fucking creep._

However, any satisfaction he could have felt was gone once he saw him lift it up to his face and _lick it_ , the gesture horrifying him even more than his previous assault.

“W-what...” - and he coughed, “What the fuck are you... _ugh!_ Doing?”.

“I could ask you the same question”, Alphonse replied, still staring down at his own hand with a thoughtful expression. His lips were twisted into a grimace and when he looked at Andrew again he felt a cold shiver run down his spine, making his already weakened body feel as if it was made of jelly. “Somebody's playing dirty”.

_\- ... ▓▓ shine, my ▓▓ ly s ▓▓ shine... -_

Andrew could barely hold his gaze, feeling like he was about to collapse. Alphonse's form was wavering in front of him as if he was looking up at him from underwater, sinking down without even being able to struggle and get back to the surface.

_\- ...you make me_ _▓▓▓ when skies are_ _▓▓▓_ _, you'll never know, dear, how_ _▓▓▓_ _I... -_

Andrew curled up on himself and covered his ears, the distorted sound growing in intensity as if the more he slipped the closer he got to its source.

_\- ...please don't take_ _▓▓_ _▓▓▓▓▓_ _away... -_

_No no no make it stop make it stop MAKE IT-_

  


“ _-...drew?_ Andrew!”

Andrew jolted up in his chair, glancing around and meeting the confused faces of some of his co-workers and the intense glaring of his boss before locating the source of the urgent-sounding whispering right next to him.

_-...when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken. So I hung...-_

Derrick was staring at him with a worried expression that Andrew was starting to loathe.

_-... my head, and I... -_

Right behind Derrick, Alphonse was also looking at him but he almost seemed amused, smirking to himself as if he'd just heard a joke that no one else but him could get.

_\- ...cried... -_

“As I was saying, I sincerely hope the results of the tests will prove that this was an unnecessary measure and an overzealous precaution”, Stevenson said, his cold blue eyes moving away from Andrew's to look at the tall, lanky man next to himself. Andrew didn't remember his name but it was something that ended with “ton”.

_Fingleton? Anderton?_

“We will have the results next week, but we reserve the right to take the time to consider how to best handle the situation should anything... _unfavourable_ come to light”.

Those eyes stopped on him again at the word 'unfavourable' and Andrew forced himself not to lower his gaze, even as he felt his face heat up and had to clench his hands on the edge of his chair in order to keep them from shaking.

It didn't take him much to realize what had happened. He must have fallen asleep through Stevenson's lecture. The man sure liked to drag things out, still the fact that he hadn't even noticed he was drifting off was quite alarming to Andrew. He had hoped that crashing on his bed as soon as he was home would do the trick and allow him to catch up on the sleep he missed but it seemed he'd been overly optimistic.

_\- ...you and make you happy, if you will only say the... -_

Andrew grimaced. If there was one thing worse than having to listen to his boss and that whatever-ton guy it was having to listen to that damn song again.

_God I fucking hate it._

Albeit the worst thing in that moment was this lingering feeling of unease that wouldn't let up since he'd regained consciousness, as if something deeply unpleasant was about to happen. Plus he was feeling somewhat nauseous for no reason, and there was an odd tingling feeling in his mouth. His tongue felt strangely numb and it was as if it was slowly regaining feeling. Maybe he had bitten it in his sleep.

  


The lingering feeling wouldn't let up even after they went back to work, with none of the three men saying as much as a word to each other even if Derrick kept throwing glances in his direction and he was accurately avoiding to look at Alphonse to see if he was staring. He kept feeling like he was but he was sure it was his imagination.

Looking out of the window he sighed, staring at the tall buildings outside as he mulled to himself. He felt as if something was off but he couldn't quite put the finger on it.

“Hey, Derrick, do you... do you know if there's a newspaper company somewhere nearby?”, he asked after a while.

“Yeah, isn't it right over there?”, Derrick replied, pointing towards the building closest to them.

_Right. Of course._

“Yeah... yeah I think so”, he said, swallowing hard and forcing himself to look back at his computer.

_Maybe I need another coffee._

“Why?”, Derrick inquired after a few moments.

“Oh I... no reason”.

The other man furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but quickly shrugged it off and went back to his work, while Andrew smiled nervously.

_No reason at all._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	24. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two to the one from the one to the three,  
> Andrew's got issues and it's plain to see.  
> Got so much anxiety you wouldn't believe,  
> Can the asshole author let the poor guy live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came out longer than the usual... I considered splitting it but it would not make much sense. Hopefully it's not too heavy!
> 
> (Unrelated but I'm getting obsessed with Detroit BH and particularly with Connor and Hank's storyline, and I have been playing [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqYey0ScCA4) on loop for days now)

As far as Andrew was concerned, the weekend couldn't come soon enough. He was tired of avoiding Alphonse and dodging Derrick's insistent questions on when exactly he was going to start talking to him again - and not just to ask him how far along he was with his data or whether he had seen his e-mail, which was apparently not counted as “actually talking to him”.

The fact that he was worried about the results of the drug test didn't help either. It didn't matter how much he tried to remember what he'd been told about how they could tell his medication apart from other substances, he still couldn't bear the thought of his boss potentially finding about it.

_What if he fires me? How will I take care of my family?!_

Could he get fired for being a schizo? Legally, he imagined not, but he wasn't sure. What if his illness was deemed a liability? He didn't really have an official diagnosis, but it wouldn't be hard to guess what his medication was for. Even if he wasn't insane and it really was just sleep deprivation and stress, it wasn't like that would make a difference for someone like Stevenson. If he thought his presence was a threat to his business he would find a way to get rid of him, legally or not.

So much for avoiding sources of stress...

_I shouldn't have gone to that doctor after all._

It was true that he wasn't getting hallucinations any more, but he still was waking up in the middle of the night and having nightmares that he could not remember, and he could have sworn he was sleepwalking more often than before. Plus now he found himself losing focus at random times, sometimes even falling asleep without realizing it until he snapped awake. He was terrified at the thought that he might fall asleep while driving, so he had to turn to Angela to ask her to drive him to work, which had been incredibly humiliating and guilt-inducing no matter how much she reassured him that she didn't mind and she could spare the time to do so even if she seemed to be busier every day with her work.

He could tell his mental state was affecting her, even if she tried to be understanding. While initially she had tried to make light of it, her jokes about how it was like living with a poltergeist that wandered around at night had stopped once she found one of her paintings smeared with handprints, the fresh colour sticking to his arms and face as he stood there in a confused state like a murderer in front of his victim.

He'd been mortified about the incident, especially since he'd never seen her look so hurt by something he did, but what had been the worst was the way she'd forced herself to smile and tell him she'd thought it looked awful anyway. Deep down he still feared that she was resenting him for it, and for having to lock the door to the living room every night before sleeping.

Between the fact that she had to deal with his problems, take care of most housework and keep up with her deadlines and ever increasing commissions, Andrew hadn't had the heart to tell her about Valentine's antics. The last thing she needed was another thing to be worried about, not to mention he didn't know that his son wouldn't retaliate by telling her about Alphonse and that might very well be the last drop for her.

No matter how patient and understanding she was, he knew she'd never tolerate being cheated on and Andrew didn't want to find out whether she'd consider kissing someone else as something forgivable. He knew what he would have thought of it if the roles had been reversed, and it was enough to make him feel like human garbage.

Besides, the real problem wasn't the kiss _per se_ , but rather the fact that he'd want someone that wasn't her.

It wasn't like he didn't look at other women but he'd never actually felt attracted to any of them in the same way he was attracted to Angela. He'd had fleeting fantasies, sure, but it was like the difference between thinking he wanted to strangle his boss and actually imagining himself in the act in graphic detail. He'd never actually lingered on the thought of cheating on her... not until Alphonse came along.

It would have been easy to blame him, and it would have been a lie to say he wasn't tempted to think that if he never came into his life then none of that would have happened and he wouldn't be feeling as if his entire world was collapsing around him. It all seemed like such a convenient coincidence, how he was doing fine right until he came along...

_You were fine? Really?_ , a malicious voice whispered in the back of his mind as he was mulling over it, but he angrily pushed it away.

Sure he'd always been anxious, but everyone got nervous or worried about stupid things sometimes. He simply happened to get nervous and worry about things a bit more than some other people, that was all.

“Andrew?”.

Angela's voice snapped him out of his musings, her warm arms wrapping around his body as she leaned down to nuzzle his hair.

“It's growing long”, she noted, pulling on one of the coiled strands until it almost looked straight.

“Maybe I should cut it”, he said, grinning when he heard her snort.

“Don't, I like it when you let your curls grow out”, she replied, sinking her hand into his hair. “ Besides...” - and she pulled his head back until he was looking straight into her eyes, which were twinkling with mischief - “... it lets me do this”.

Feeling a familiar heat rush through his body, Andrew had to admit that was a very compelling argument.

He closed his eyes as her lips pressed against his, her other hand sliding up on his chest to let her fingers trail along the edge of his t-shirt before wrapping them around his throat, making him gasp into the kiss.

“...can't you like... do this in your own room?”

Valentine's voice startled them both, reminding Andrew that they were still in the middle of the living room and making him feel suddenly self-conscious about the fact that he was still wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a t-shirt. For once he felt grateful about the fact that his meds prevented him from getting hard as quickly and easily as he normally did, even so he had to fight the urge to pull down his shirt to hide the front of his underwear.

“Don't tell me you've been asleep this whole time”, Angela said, sounding quite annoyed. Andrew had a suspicion that this had more to do with the fact that she'd been interrupted than the fact that their son looked like he just rolled out of the bed.

“You said it, not me”, the boy replied with a shrug, scratching his head and looking up at the clock. “It's not that late anyway”.

“It's ten past noon!”.

Valentine shrugged again.

“Eh, I didn't have anything that couldn't wait this afternoon”, he said, walking up to a large cupboard and rummaging inside. “Hmm... where are the chocolate chips cookies?”.

“It's almost lunch-time, if you snack now you're not going to be hungry”, Andrew remarked, holding back from glaring at him when he saw him roll his eyes.

“That's never been a problem. Unless mom made spinach. In which case fuck lunch”.

“Valentine!”.

“Sorry, I meant _frick_ lunch”.

The boy only grinned in response to Andrew's glare before walking out of the room with a bag of chili-flavored chips.

Andrew could only shake his head and turn towards Angela with an incredulous look, to which she sighed and raised her hands in defeat.

“Does he talk to you like that too?”, he asked, looking back towards the door as if he expected him to come back and apologize.

“Guess he's at that age where he has to do the whole rebellious kid thing”, she said, not seeming particularly bothered.

Andrew however frowned deeply, and he couldn't help but think back to the time he caught him loitering around a bar and to the smell of cigarettes on him, not to mention...

_No. Don't go there._

“I don't like that attitude. Where did it come from anyway? He was such a sweet kid.”.

Angela laughed at that, her expression softening a bit.

“Maybe ten years ago”, she said. “But yeah, I get what you mean. He's been a bit of a pest for a couple months now, but he's only started to try and talk back to me since the other week”.

“Do you...”, Andrew hesitated, thinking back to his suspicions when he'd gone to pick him up after talking with Derrick. “Do you think he's got some sort of bad influence?”.

Angela raised one eyebrow and her lips curled up into a sardonic smile.

“Look, if the worst that he's doing is that he's trying to sass you back then you'd wish all problematic teenagers were like this”, she replied, much to Andrew's annoyance. He was tempted to tell her all about the incident with that drunk pervert, still he was held back by the fear of what might have ensued.

“By the way, that's neither here nor there but I'm pretty sure he's got a girlfriend”, she continued, and Andrew immediately looked at her again, a sinking feeling into his gut as he tried not to think about his son's taunting.

“ _What if I already got a girl pregnant?”_

He couldn't possibly...

“Why do you think that?”, he asked, unable to hide the concern in his voice.

“Female intuition”, she replied with a small wink, to which Andrew couldn't help but smile even as he rolled his eyes at her. “And there's three less condoms than there should have been in your drawer”.

If she had said anything else, he would not have heard it over the static noise filling his head, his ears buzzing from the anger.

“I'm going to kill him”, he growled, turning around and marching towards the door. He only took a few steps before he felt her arms wrap around him, stopping him in his tracks.

“For what? Doing what we were doing at his age?”.

He stiffened.

“ _I know you were fucking her already...”._

“That was different”, he hissed, but he knew even before he heard her scoffing that he would have nothing to retort with.

“Yeah, we were careless enough not to use protection”, she replied, and her tone was gentle but he still winced as if she had slapped him instead.

“ _...you've got no fucking right to lecture me...”._

“Accidents can still happen!”, he replied trying not to think about-

“ _It was because she was pregnant...”_

-his argument with Valentine. “Besides-

“ _...wasn't it?”._

“- he shouldn't be going through our stuff!”.

“Would you rather he didn't use them and _really_ got her pregnant?”

He tried to push away the image of his son, eyes wide open in shock as he pulled out of whatever girl he was fucking with and his own semen leaked out.

_Wasn't it?_

“No”, he murmured, sighing as his body relaxed in her hold. “I wouldn't”.

“You really should trust him more. He's got a good head on his shoulders, even if he doesn't always show it”, she told him, and he felt a pang in his chest as he thought of that day, he knew she wouldn't say the same if she knew but-

“ _I thought you told each other everything”._

-even then the words wouldn't come out of his mouth.

“Maybe you're right”, he replied, trying to drown the guilt in her warm embrace as he turned around and held her tight.

Angela chuckled as she squeezed him back, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“That's my secret, darling. I'm always right”.

  
  


Despite his wife's reasonings, Andrew couldn't help but look at Valentine with different eyes after what he had learned, in his heart a mixture of resentment and worry, and a sinking feeling of something like resignation in the pit of his stomach.

There was so much he didn't know about his son, and so much he couldn't discuss with him.

He'd never been the type to talk about his feelings, except with his wife, and in many ways Valentine reminded him of her and he was sure he took after her more than him, personality-wise. However the way he felt around them couldn't have been more different.

With her, he felt safe and at ease. Like he didn't have to hide from her gaze, like she wouldn't laugh at him for his flaws or use them against him, or exploit his weaknesses to take advantage of him if he bared himself to her. As hard as he found it to open up with other people, it was as if she held the key to open up the walls he was always putting up around himself.

As for Valentine, well, the boy had the uncanny ability of slipping past his walls like a ghost or a shadow, but that only made Andrew want to pull back and keep his distance. It wasn't like he didn't love him, but he felt uncomfortable when he was around him for too long. As if he was left bare in front of him, with no way to hide his true face. Plus, Valentine had a way with words and had always been too good at getting under his skin, even if he'd never been so cocky about it as he was being lately.

_What's gotten into him?_

Even as they had dinner that day he found it hard to focus on the conversation as Angela talked with them about her upcoming plans to go to a large art exhibit with some of her friends the following week and Valentine mentioned that Mike had invited him to come over during that weekend.

_Mike. Yeah sure. Just like how “Mike” invited him to study last time._

The more Andrew thought about it the more he couldn't help but wonder if the mystery girl was the cause of Valentine's rebellious behaviour, or at least one of the causes. Maybe he was trying to act more grown up to impress her.

It took all his self-control and a look of warning from Angela to hold back from calling him out on his bluff, albeit what really forced his hand was once again that lingering doubt in the back of his mind.

“ _I'm not gonna tell her”._

Calling him out for keeping secrets wouldn't be the brightest thing he could do. Nor the most fair.

_It's not like I could claim to have the high moral ground in this case,_ he told himself as he swallowed back his irritation and his feelings of betrayal.

Still, when Valentine looked at him and smiled, it was as if he already knew all that he wanted to tell him.

Even without talking, the smug, knowing look in those dark eyes said it all.

  
  
  


  
  


“Are you going to be alright without me?”

They were cuddling on the bed when Angela asked him that question, and Andrew almost wanted to laugh.

_What do you think?_

“Yeah... it's only a week”, he replied, speaking more into her hair than to her face.

“Andrew, I'm serious”, she insisted, pulling back enough to look at him in the eyes.

He sighed.

“Lately I haven't been alright regardless”, he said, shrugging. “I thought those pills were supposed to help and... I don't know. I feel like maybe I'm getting even worse.”

“Then maybe they're not right for you”, she replied, propping herself up so that she was laying on her side with her head raised. “You could try a different type. There's lots of sleeping pills, you're bound to-”

“They're not... they're not sleeping pills”, he said, looking down at the mattress. “They should help but, that's not...”.

There was a long silence after that, and he didn't want to look at her face but she pulled up his chin so that he'd raise his face towards her.

“What is it?”, she asked gently, and she was not looking at him with pity or fear or disgust but he still tried to avert her gaze.

“It's not sure”, he said, knowing he was stalling for time but he couldn't get himself to say it. “I-I'm... well I might...”

_Early manifestation of..._

“You might what?”

The picture on the wall, one of her first works that she had refused to display for the longest time. The light-blue tone contrasting with the red accents, the figure so stylized it almost looked like an abstract painting, but he knew it was a dancer. He'd seen her work on that painting. He remembered it. He was sure it hadn't been moved for years.

The library full of books, half of which never read by either of them. The window from which you could even see a small piece of the nearby park if you stood close enough and knew where to look, but at the moment and from that angle all that could be seen besides the night sky was the top of a building across the street and the foliage from a nearby tree.

Everything was right where he remembered, wasn't it?

“Nothing”.

She made that small humming sound that meant she was not convinced, but he stayed silent. It was stupid, he knew she would understand, wouldn't she? But the words were stuck in his throat and he couldn't force them out.

Soon enough her hand moved to stroke his cheek and then his hair, her fingers tangling in its curls as she leaned in to kiss him.

Andrew felt glad for the distraction, especially if it meant that she wasn't going to probe him for more information. His hands moved across her body, reaching the hem of the shirt she was wearing and pulling it up to her chest, interrupting the kiss to pull it over her head and discard it somewhere there on the bed.

He took a few moments to bask in that sight before kissing her again, his body slowly catching up with his intent and warming up against hers; his heartbeat sped up as he felt her breasts pressing against his chest, her hard nipples brushing against his skin as she shifted to raise one of her legs and hook it around his.

Still, when she followed the trail of hairs from his stomach to his crotch, his cock was flaccid in her hand even as she pulled it out of his boxer briefs to touch it directly, only then responding with a small twitch.

While previously it would not take all that much to get it hard, now it only seemed to give signs of life when it was touched directly, and even then it seemed to take forever before he managed to orgasm. It made trying to masturbate into such an ordeal that he gave up on it even before Angela told him to hold back from touching himself.

If only he managed to not stress himself over it, he usually could get into it after a while. At first it had been really difficult but with time and patience he'd managed to adapt to the situation. The fact that Angela didn't seem to mind that it took more than usual to get him off also helped.

“Do you want me to get on top?”, she asked against his lips, barely waiting for his answer before pushing him on his back and sitting in his lap, her ass pressing against his slowly-hardening cock. She looked down at him and smirked, taking his hands in hers and pressing them down on the mattress, near the sides of his head.

“I can't touch you like this”, he protested, giving a half-hearted attempt to pull his hands free which she halted by entwining their fingers together and pressing down harder.

“You _are_ touching me”, she replied, staring down at him as she shifted her weight and not-so-accidentally rubbed herself against him. Even through the fabric he could feel her warmth, and the more her hips moved as she started grinding against him, the more obvious it was that she was getting wet.

Andrew held back a groan and looked up at her, his eyes caught in a conundrum as he could not possibly stare at her breasts and her face at the same time. He could have pulled free if he really wanted to, but then maybe she would have stopped moving and he _really_ did not want that to happen. Especially not when he was almost fully hard and her crotch was sliding along his shaft like that, her damp panties making him resent the fact that he hadn't taken them off earlier.

Since he could not move his hands, he started to move his hips too to grind against her, feeling a small twinge of vindication as she gasped and shuddered, clearly not expecting him to retaliate.

“Isn't there something in the way?”, he asked, raising his hips as much as he could to push himself against her, feeling the dampest part of her panties sink in for a few moments before the tip slipped past and rubbed against the front, drawing a sudden moan from her as it brushed her clit.

There was a thunder outside, the sudden noise startling them both before they looked at each other and laughed.

“Damn, that was loud”, Angela remarked, letting go of Andrew's hands and getting up to close the window.

“I forgot it was going to rain”, Andrew said, following her with his eyes and looking outside as she got back on the bed, the light creaking of the mattress and the weight shift letting him know when she came close again. He could see the first drops splatter against the glass, a lightning illuminating the mass of clouds in the sky.

As his head was turned, Angela took advantage of that to lick the exposed side of his neck, making him shiver. The storm was picking up rapidly, the raindrops crowding up the window and blurring it, and then came another thunder, this time lower and rumblier, almost like-

_...a car engine..._

-a growl.

Angela climbed on top of him again and this time she slipped one leg between his and pushed herself against him as she laid down, his cock pressing against her hip.

He gasped and raised his thigh, feeling her wet folds against his skin and realizing she was now completely naked. He tried to reach for her hips but she grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away-

“ _Hush”_

\- and when he turned again towards her to protest she silenced him with a kiss before he could speak, making his heart skip a beat.

_No..._

The rain was pouring and the thunder kept rumbling, and Andrew was pinned down and couldn't move, paralyzed in fear.

_No no no no..._

Hands were roaming all over his body as his heart thumped in his ears-

_hands hands so many hands_

-and he had no strength to fight back and push the other off of himself, the kiss tasting familiar yet off-putting. He felt his underwear getting pulled down to his knees, leaving him naked and-

_stop stop STOP!_

-he wanted to struggle or scream or bite the other's tongue or anything but lie there and tremble yet...

“Andrew?”.

Angela's voice sounded so distant, maybe she was outside, he tried to warn Alphonse, to tell him to get away but he couldn't move or speak.

_No she'll see she'll see no please no no_

“Andrew you're shaking... what's wrong? Andrew”.

The touch to his face startled him more than the crushing thunder that followed, his eyes going back into focus and meeting her green ones.

_What..._

He looked around, confused, until it occurred to him that he was in his own bed with his wife and not-

_In his car_

-somewhere he shouldn't be.

_Oh God..._

“Andrew?”, she insisted, her tone increasingly worried so he forced himself to smile and lean in for another kiss. “Wai-”.

He didn't let her finish, his eyes closed and his hands holding her face. If she couldn't look at him and he couldn't speak then she wouldn't have to see the tears that had slipped from his eyes nor hear the tremble in his voice as he tried to answer to her.

“I'm fine”, he whispered once he pulled back, and he was only out of breath because of the kiss, right, or at least she wouldn't know better so it was all good now.

“Andrew”, she repeated again, her firm tone wiping his half-hearted smile off his face. She moved to get up from him and he panicked, holding her by her shoulders and trying to kiss her again but she covered his mouth. “Stop it”, she said, a warning note in her voice, and forced himself to let go of her even as the small voice inside him kept screaming and telling him that all would be ruined if she suspected anything and if he didn't show her that everything was ok then _she would know_ and his life would be over...

“I'm ok!”, he told her, but even if it didn't shake he knew that his voice came out too high and too fast, and his attempt to touch her again was halted as she took his hands in hers and entangled their fingers together.

“I'm not going to have sex if you don't wan-”.

“I do!”.

“Andrew, you're shaking like a leaf and you look like you're about to be sick”.

He opened his mouth to respond but anything he could think of sounded stupid or obviously false, so he closed it again and looked down at the mattress, feeling his stomach curl up in guilt.

_I can't even do that right._

“Look at me, please”.

He tensed up. That was the very last thing he wanted to do.

_How long before she thinks that I'm a failure? I ruined her work and she has to take care of me like a child and now I can't even fuck her properly..._

“I guess I came off a bit too forceful”, she said, and then he looked up and couldn't quite tell what sort of expression was on her face but it didn't look like she despised him at least.

“It's not your fault. It's just... I'm the one that's messed up”, he explained. He still wasn't sure of what happened but he knew it had to be some sort of unusual brain fuckery. He was almost learning to get accustomed to those, at that point.

_It was almost as if I was back there..._

Or well, not exactly back since he'd never been-

_But I knew what his car looked like._

He froze again, but quickly pushed off that thought, even if it stubbornly tried to cling at the back of his mind.

_How would I have-_

“Maybe it's because of the meds”, he continued, his frustration towards those pills increasing even more as he considered that possibility. How good were they doing for him, really? The more he thought about it the less sure he was of what was worse, if dealing with the hallucinations or with the new and unexpected ways his brains decided to fuck him over. At least he could ignore the hallucinations, couldn't he? He wasn't talking to Alphonse anyway, and they always seemed to involve him somehow, so if he kept avoiding him then...

“ _You can't just ignore everyone else forever”._

He sighed.

“What's going on, Andrew?”, she asked, moving behind him to wrap her arms around his chest and rest her face against his shoulder. “Why won't you tell me?”.

He felt glad that she couldn't look at his face like that, and most important he wouldn't be able to see hers as he forced himself to respond.

“I'm...”. He took a deep breath, hands grasping on the bedsheets and eyes fixed on the rain-streaked window.

“He said it could have been stress and... and sleep problems”, he finally continued, the leaves of the tree blurred up by the rain reminding him of some of Angela's less realistic paintings where the colours seemed to blur together into a single confused shape unless you stepped back and looked from afar. “But it could also be...”, and his voice lowered almost to a whisper. “S-schizophrenia”.

She didn't say anything, but she held him tighter and Andrew had to fight back the tears that threatened to spill out, not sure if it was from relief or fear or anxiety or something else entirely.

“S-sometimes... sometimes I've seen things and... I'm not sure of whether they're actually there”, he confessed, not daring to speak too loudly and almost hoping she wouldn't hear it. “Ah, but it's not happening anymore-”.

_Not until now at least._

“-since I started taking those pills”

_And stopped hanging around Alphonse._

She moved one hand to pet his hair and brush it away from his face before stroking his cheek, and he could only be glad of the fact he managed to hold back from crying again. He already felt useless and weak enough without adding that further humiliation to the mix.

“I'm sorry”, he whispered, not knowing what else he could say.

“For what?”, she asked, and her voice didn't sound like she was angry or spiteful or like she pitied him but still he was terrified she might not yet realize how bad that was.

“For... for making you put up with... this mess”.

She scoffed.

“You're not 'making me' do anything, much less 'putting up' with your problems. It's not like I didn't know you were troubled when we got together”.

Andrew wanted to argue that it was different, but he didn't have the mental strength to do that at the moment, so he only let out a small grunt. It wasn't like he had no issues back then, considering his family... but it wasn't the same thing. And he worried she might be underestimating it and would eventually come to resent him once she realized the extent of the problem.

They stayed there in silence for a while as he mulled over it and she kept on holding him like that, his hands resting over hers. His erection had long withered at that point and he had no doubt that they would do anything but talk and hopefully sleep for the rest of the night.

“Maybe it comes from my father”, he said with a small grimace. “I've never known much about him aside from the fact that he was a sack of shit. I guess that would fit him, wouldn't it? Couldn't stick around to take care of me but he still passed this shit down to me. Or... maybe it was not him. Maybe that's why my mother was... like that”.

Then a sudden thought occurred to him and he froze, eyes growing wide in horror.

“Oh God... what if _I_ passed it down? What if Valentine-”.

“Andrew, calm down. You don't even know for sure that you have that, and even then it's not like it's a contagious disease”, Angela interrupted him as he was starting to panic all over again. “But if he was... it would not be the end of the world”.

Andrew was not so sure of that.

“Yeah, right. Tell that to him”, he muttered, disentangling from her embrace to get up from the bed. “I'm going to get my meds”.

“Alright”, she said, leaning up to kiss him briefly once he was standing in front of the bed. “Then I'll go take a shower”.

  
  


After their conversation Andrew felt somewhat reassured from her reaction, even if he still worried that she was underestimating the issue. At least she hadn't been angry at him for keeping it from her, which was one of the main things he'd been scared of.

Not like that was the only thing he'd been keeping from her but-

He didn't want to think about that. Not when he was already stressed from...whatever the fuck had happened before. Maybe he should have taken his meds earlier, or take more of them. He'd have to call the doctor first, which was the last thing he wanted to do as he wasn't eager to see that man again.

_I'll do that next week. He's not going to be working in the weekend anyway, is he?_

He didn't want to worry about that either. He only wanted to sleep.

Still, as he kept his eyes closed and tried to relax next to Angela, one last lingering thought came back to pester him, ignoring his attempts to brush it off and tell himself it didn't mean anything.

_I knew that I knew what it looked like I knew what it sounded like how would I have known when I never had been-_

_Fuck off_ , he told himself, as the last thing he wanted or needed in that moment was to feed his paranoid streak.

_I'm too tired for this shit._

It was not important. His brain being useless as always.

_Has that ever not been the case?_

Once he would have said no, but now? Now he was not sure of anything anymore.

But maybe he never had been.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
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> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
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	25. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denial is not a river in Egypt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really loving the comments and the fact that some of you keep coming back and let me know about it <3 that's really awesome! I'm always amazed by the responses to the chapters and I enjoy reading your reactions and considerations. I wish I could answer to more questions but I really don't want to spoil too much XD I think that would ruin your enjoyement.
> 
> That said I am noticing that a common musing is whether Andrew is mentally ill or whether Alphonse is fucking with his head, that I do want to address. My answer to that is: you are working on flawed logic to begin with :P

 

“ _Andy?”._

There was a knock at the door. Andrew tried locating the source of the sound, but it was not in that room.

“ _Andy?”._

The voice that called out to him sounded familiar, but he wasn't quite sure he could tell who it was.

_Where am I?_

He looked around. He was in a room with a dresser in it and a bed with no bed-frame, a few cardboard boxes and a table. A bottle of water near the bed, and a few scattered clothes on the floor.

Meanwhile the knocking continued.

“ _Andy?!”._

A man's voice. It was somehow both hushed and loud enough for him to hear him from there. It came from somewhere on his right, and as he pushed the door open he found himself in a kitchen.

It was small and crowded with things. The window filled it with bright light, and the lingering smell of apple and cinnamon made him think of Grandma's apple pies. He recognized that smell, but not his surroundings.

There was a closed door in front of him. That's where the knocking came from.

“ _Andy, please. Open the door for-”_

“Talk about being insistent”.

Alphonse's voice startled him so much he almost fell over, turning around and looking at him in alarm.

_What are you..._

He was about to question him but the words died in his throat as soon as he tried to open his mouth. The man towered in front of him, looking impossibly tall.

Much like everything else in the room.

He looked at him again, puzzled. He knew where he was now.

“You shouldn't he- be here”, he said, clutching something to his chest. He was holding his stuffed lion in his arms, one of Grandma's gifts.

_It was?_

“ _ **Andy!”.**_

The voice sounded louder now, almost echoing in the room, and Andrew stiffened. He looked at the door as if he expected it to be kicked in at any second, taking a step backwards and clenching his hands on the stuffed toy.

“Aren't you going to answer?”, Alphonse whispered to him, his hands grasping on his shoulders. Andrew knew he should have been scared but rather than running away he wanted to turn around and hide his face in the man's chest, as if that would magically take him away from there.

“ _ **Andy! Come on!”.**_

“There's no point in waiting it out you know”.

_No..._

The other man tried to push him towards the door but Andrew pulled himself free and tried to run back to the first room, only to find him standing in front of it.

“You know, for how adamant you've been about not having choices, you sure keep on running away from them at every chance”, Alphonse remarked, a smug smirk crossing his lips as he walked towards him. Andrew quickly backtracked from him, but he made a sharp turn before the other could trap him against the door, pushing his back against a wall.

“You already know how this ends”.

He did not. But he didn't want to open the door. He had the feeling that something terrible would happen.

“ _ **Oh for fuck's sake Andy! Open-”.**_

Alphonse sighed in a theatrical manner, walking up to him and crouching down to be at his eye-level.

“There is no way for you to change things at this point”, he told him, his black eyes freezing him in place even before his hands grasped on his shoulders again. “The sooner you realize this, the easier it'll be for you as well”.

The knocking was quickly turning into a loud banging, the walls around him vibrating with every hit, and Andrew covered his ears and shook his head, wishing to be anywhere else but there.

“ _ **Andy! ...Andy! ...Andy! ...And-”**_

  
  


  
  


“-ad? _Dad?_ Come on!”.

Andrew blinked his eyes in confusion, Valentine's face coming into focus as he looked up and frowned. Where was...

Valentine sighed and let go of his shoulders, getting up from the floor. Andrew then realized that he was curled up against the wall, right to the side of the door leading to the living room.

“Fucking hell, what kinda shit are you on?”, his son mused, putting his hands in his pockets and staring down at him as he rested against the opposite wall.

Andrew groaned in response, covering his face with his hands and muttering a half-hearted “Language, Val”.

Valentine snorted.

“Well then, clearly it can't be _that_ bad”.

Andrew rolled his eyes from behind his hands, thinking to himself that he _really_ did not have the energy to even begin to put up with his attitude. But when he put down his hands and was about to scold him he saw that he was not looking at him with derision or spite.

_Oh for fuck's sake_ , he thought, noticing his tense expression and the way he stared at him as if he thought he might collapse at any second. _Now I've even gotten him worried._

“I had a nightmare”, He explained, his voice sounding a bit raspy so he cleared his throat. “I think”, he added in a lower tone, trying and failing to focus on what had been going on before he woke up there.

_I can't remember shit._

Valentine didn't seem too reassured by his words.

“You kept mumbling to yourself and shaking like you were having some bad trip. Must have been one hell of a bad dream”, he said, eyes fixed on his father's.

“I guess”, was all that Andrew could reply, shrugging and forcing himself to get up. Or at least attempting to, given that his legs were numb. “What time is it?”.

“Five A.M.”, Valentine said, moving away from the wall to help him up to his feet, much to his father's embarrassment. “Went for a piss and I heard some weird noise, so I came down to check. Thought you were high on some heavy shit from the way you were spazzing”.

“Do you have to speak like that?”, Andrew asked him, which made the boy roll his eyes.

“Whatever. Let's get breakfast”.

“It's way too early-”.

“I'm not sleepy anymore, so”, Valentine replied with a shrug. “Besides, yesterday you were riding my a... getting on my case for eating too late, now you're grumbling if it's too early. Make up your mind”.

Andrew shook his head. “There's a middle ground between two extremes”, he retorted. “But fine. I guess I'm not sleeping either anyway”.

Valentine nodded and smirked at him, pushing his fist up in the air. “That's the spirit! Sleep is for the weak!”, he cheerfully said before turning to walk towards the kitchen.

“I wish”, Andrew muttered to himself as he followed him, hand resting against the wall to keep his balance while his legs regained sensitivity.

At least Valentine didn't seem to be concerned about his state anymore. The last thing he needed in that moment was for _his fucking son_ to start worrying about him too.

  
  


It was ten by the time Angela came down, which was uncharacteristically late for her even for a weekend. Normally he was the one to wake up to the sound of TV, or to the smell of coffee if she decided to wake him up, coming upstairs with a nice steaming cup of it.

Valentine was the first to notice her, looking out from the kitchen as soon as she was close.

“Hi mom!”.

“Hi Val... what are you two doing?”, she asked as soon as she walked in, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the scene. Andrew couldn't help but feel relieved at her appearance.

“We're cooking”, he said. “It was his idea”, then quickly added, pointing his wooden spoon at Val before going back to stirring what should have been meat sauce, and hopefully still tasted like meat sauce despite its appearance and the sinister noise that resembled bubbling mud coming from it.

Angela stared at Valentine, who looked like a can of tomato sauce had exploded on him (which wasn't far off from the truth), then at Andrew again, then she shook her head and silently walked out of the room.

“She was so impressed that now she's speechless”, Valentine whispered as he approached Andrew again.

“I... don't think that's the case”, Andrew whispered back, his hopes of being saved by his predicament now completely dashed. He was sure she would have known how to fix the disaster that was boiling in the pot.

Valentine huffed.

“It's called 'sarcasm', dad.”

  
  


Thankfully when they all got together to eat, the lunch did turn out to be edible. In fact the taste of the sauce was surprisingly accurate, even if the texture wasn't, and the pasta was a bit overcooked but not to the point where it barely needed any chewing.

“I have to say it's nice”, Angela commented, still seeming a bit doubtful as she tried a few more forkfuls. “It's got an, uhm, interesting texture. You could say it's experimental”.

Valentine was a lot less diplomatic about it.

“It kinda sucks”, he said with a shrug, but still kept on munching with enthusiasm.

“It was a nice gesture”, Angela insisted, smiling at him. “Thank you, Val. And thank you, Andrew.”

Valentine looked away and muttered a dry “I was just hungry”, but his ears turned red.

Despite what she had said, Andrew had been worried that she'd look at him with different eyes after that night, once the moment between them had passed. All morning he'd been wavering between regretting ever saying anything and feeling relieved that he finally got it off his chest, and sometimes both things at once.

Even when the day went on as normal he still had moments in which he wanted to grab her and tell her that all that talk from the previous night had been nonsense, just him being tired and cranky, but he knew she wouldn't believe that.

He only got back on the subject after they had dinner and he helped her clean up, while Valentine was playing a videogame in the living room. Star Runners 3 probably, as Andrew recognized the familiar spaceship noises.

“Hey, what's on your mind?”, Angela asked him, noticing that he was more silent than usual.

Andrew shrugged, holding back from replying _“nothing”_. She would not believe it, and it would only annoy her to see that he didn't want to open up with her once again.

“I'm just, you know”, he murmured as he focused on the plate he had in his hands, scrubbing it for longer than necessary. She did not respond, but she did come closer and rested against the counter, waiting for him to continue. Which he eventually did, with a lot of reluctance.

“You know, I woke up downstairs today, and Valentine was... he found me just, there and...”

His hands were shaking so he kept on washing that plate instead of placing it up to dry with the others, even when he had rinsed it twice. He kept pretending to find spots to insist on, which also had the added benefit of making him look down at what he was doing instead of at her.

“I don't know... I don't know. I just, want things to be good again and I don't... he found me there and thought that I was on drugs. That's the fucking example I'm setting- I don't know the fuck to do with my head at this point it's just-”.

The plate slipped from his grip and crashed before he could grab it, and Angela tried to stop him from picking up the pieces but he had already grabbed one and next thing he knew a sharp pain struck him and pulled him out of his panic, making him realize that he was hyperventilating.

He turned his hand and a white shard was shoved into his palm and he could feel the pain but it also felt so distant that he was not even sure it was there. His body was registering it and by all means he knew he was feeling it, but he was not really aware of it. He guessed it was the shock. The warm water made the blood flow copiously from the wound even before Angela grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm away, wrapping it in a dry tablecloth as he dragged him closer to the light.

“I'm fine!”, he automatically replied, trying to pull away, but she tightened her grasp and called out to him.

“Hey, hey!”, she said, her tone low and calm despite the fact that her face was as white as a sheet and her green eyes full of alarm. “You have a piece of plate stuck into your hand, you are _not_ fine. Now let me take it out”.

Andrew wanted to protest but he couldn't find any reason to, so he stopped struggling and nodded, watching as she carefully grasped on it and slowly pulled it out of the wound, placing it aside and then checking for any remaining smaller pieces before pressing the cloth against the wound to stop the bleeding.

“Did it hurt?”, she asked, her worry now more clearly audible in her voice.

Andrew shook his head, glancing back at the cloth and then at her again. He could feel the blood flowing out as the fabric turned red, the way his hand was pulsating underneath hers, but it still didn't feel real. _Was_ it real?

_I don't_

“Maybe we should talk later”, Angela suggested, and he looked up at her and touched her face with his other hand, stroking her hair and her cheek and feeling lost.

_Is it...?_

“It's ok”, she told him, taking his hand and kissing it. It felt soft and warm and Andrew was shaking again, the pain flaring up from his wound as if it only just hit him that he was actually wounded, that it was his actual blood seeping in the white fabric and staining it red.

“I'm sorry-”

“I know you're unwell. I guess I've kind of... I didn't know it would get worse, but I suspected it. I simply hoped the day would not come”, she said, a sad smile on her face. This time it was her turn to look away, leaving him to feel confused... or rather, even more so than he already was.

“What- what do you mean?”, he asked, not sure of whether he actually wanted the answer.

“You've pushed everyone away except for Val and me. You were always terrified that I would leave you. You were scared out of your wits any time you lost sight of Valentine-”

“But that's normal!”, he replied, feeling his face heat up. “You were worried too!”

“-you were convinced that our neighbour was stalking me simply because he was being nice. You were sure that Derry would be fired at least five times and every time you were so anxious you could barely sleep and you blamed yourself for it. The first time he was late you called him every day for over a week to wake him up until I told you to stop it.”

Andrew didn't know what she was getting at, telling him all those things, but he really didn't like it. He was tempted to push her off and run upstairs, or maybe get out of the house altogether until things went back to normal.

“I know you have problems, Andrew. Maybe even more than you do. I've always known what I was getting myself into. So you don't-”

“STO- Stop talking as if I'm some kind of lunatic!”, Andrew almost yelled out, shaking in anger and shame and clenching his bleeding fist despite the pain. In fact the pain cleared his mind and prevented him from snapping completely, otherwise he really would have stormed out of there. “I don't... I'll get back to normal. I'll find a way, and you won't have to deal with... with this _mess_ ”.

Angela looked as if she wanted to say more, but after a few moments she gave up and let the silence fall between them.

Andrew stared down at his hand again and loosened his grasp, realizing he'd been squeezing on her hand and feeling his anger give place to guilt. He really was a mess, and she'd gotten caught up in it.

_I don't deserve her._

As the silence went on for an uncomfortably long time, the noise from the living room seemed to get louder and he couldn't help but wonder how loud they'd been, hoping that Valentine hadn't heard anything over the sounds from his game. The loud explosions and the tense music clued him in on the fact that he had to be playing some action scene at that moment.

_That reminds me... isn't his birthday coming up soon?_

It had almost completely slipped his mind until then, given everything else that had been going on in his life.

Angela had reminded him at some point before they left for Florence but lately his memory had not exactly been the best. He didn't even remember which day it was beyond the fact that it currently was a Sunday, so he had no idea of exactly how much time he had to think of a gift. Star Blasters 3 had been last year's gift, but at the moment he had no idea of whether there was any particular game that his son was coveting. He also did not want to blindly buy something that could turn out to be incredibly gory and violent.

Angela might have known more, but he couldn't ask her now. Not while leaving things like that.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you”, he said, moving in and trying to pull her into a hug which she thankfully didn't move away from, albeit she didn't reciprocate either. He wanted to justify himself but it felt like it would be even worse, so he kept quiet and held her close instead.

“Alright”, she said after a while, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing back. “Apology accepted. But you have to do something for me”.

Andrew was glad she could not see him cringing in advance from that position.

“What is it?”

“You have to stop isolating yourself”.

Andrew was about to protest when she pressed a finger against his mouth, moving back to give him a serious look.

“Look, I can't be here for you all the time. You've seen how busy my work is getting. I love you, and I'll always be here to support you but I can't _physically be there_ in person at all moments. I might have to be away for work too, depending on what kind of commissions or contracts I get.”

“I know”, he replied once the finger moved away, holding back from sighing. He knew that very well. He spent most of his day at work, after all. As much as he would have liked to be home more it was impossible to do so.

“When I'm leaving next week I want to know that you can at least have some extent of support that isn't me. Even if it's nothing more than spending time with someone else and talking about whatever”.

“I don't need-”

“Andrew, _please_. I'm worried about you. I'll feel better knowing you're not holed up here like some grumpy old man”.

“Valentine's here too”, he tried to argue, gesturing towards the living room.

“And I'm sure he'd like to have the house to himself from time to time”.

“All the more reason for me to be here”.

“Andrew...”, Angela rubbed her eyes and sighed. He went to sit down and looked at the floor as if he was very interested in the tile pattern, trying not to show his annoyance. He knew she didn't understand why he'd rather be alone but he did. He'd be lying if he said he wouldn't be lonely without her but that didn't mean he had any intent to open up to Derrick or much less Alphonse.

Well, a small part of him did want to open up to Alphonse but-

_No. Don't even think about it._

“Please tell me you'll make an effort. You haven't gone out with your friends-”

_They're not my friends,_ he held back from reminding her.

“-in a long time. And you haven't talked about Al in a while. I know you think he's after me, for whatever reason, but that's really not the case. Trust me, I would know.”

The last thing he wanted right then was to talk about Alphonse with her and his reservations regarding the other man, not to mention the whole mess of his hallucinations involving him, so he didn't comment on that.

“Look, if you don't want to do it for yourself then do it for me. To make me feel better. Alright?”.

_That's a low-_

“Fine”, he muttered in a defeated tone, to which she rested her hand on his shoulder and leaned down to kiss him.

“Thank you. I love you”.

Andrew couldn't lie to himself, hearing that made him feel a lot better already.

“I love you too.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
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> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	26. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *insert that one bad recorder cover of the F.R.I.E.N.D.S. intro*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I was afk for most of the weekend. My grandmother is in very bad shape and it's not sure if she'll come out of the hospital. I have this and the next chapter ready but I might need a while for the next one. I'm not yet sure as my brain has weird ways to cope with things. I might go on a writing spree or it might completely kill my muse for a while. ~~It doesn't help that my whole family is more mental than usual.~~
> 
> Second thing to say, article 13 has passed in EU. Well there are still a few hoops so there is some time before it effects things and some degree of hope but eh. Not sure how bad this will affect things, but I am in Europe and so are quite a few of you. I can say I will find a way to post the chapters somewhere even if we have to go back to mailing lists like in Ye Olde Fandom Times when fanfiction was pretty much illegal. In the meanwhile I'll keep on posting here for as long as I can.
> 
> For reference my discord ID is Will91#2440 and I would leave my mail but I'd rather not put it here in the open so if you want to have it for back-up purposes in case anything happens, ask me and I'll temporarily write it in my response.

 

“ _Please tell me you'll talk to Alphonse?”._

“ _Please tell me you'll make an effort”._

Andrew groaned to himself as he tried and failed to focus on his work.

_I never actually promised anything,_ he told himself. _“Those two... they have no idea of what they are asking me to do.”._

Still the guilt gnawed at him.

_It would be like asking for trouble._

He was sure nothing good would come of it.

_If he cared so much he could make an effort as well. Clearly he's fine with it too. Better let sleeping dogs lie._

But he knew that was not the case. After what Derrick had told him he had paid attention, and Alphonse's work had gotten... maybe sloppy was not quite the right word, but there definitely was a difference.

And the truth was, if he was still ignoring Alphonse it wasn't only because he was worried of what the other could say or do.

The truth was, he _missed_ Alphonse. He missed the banter and the serious talks too. He missed actually feeling some kind of connection with someone beyond his family. He missed...

_The taste of his cigarettes._

And he was scared of it.

All this time he insisted with his wife that he didn't need anyone else but her, and it had always been true.

Until Alphonse came along.

_It's dangerous._

He had never met someone who he felt could truly understand him, that could make him wish for once that he had...

_A friend?_

Andrew bristled at the thought.

_I don't_ _need_ _friends._

There was nothing a friend could give him that he could not get from his family. Making friends meant opening up to someone, caring about them, and letting them care for him. Letting them into his life.

The mere thought was terrifying.

_I don't want that._

But he _did._

He never had wanted it before. In spite of what Angela could think, he had always been just fine on his own. Friends were a liability, not an asset, that he was deeply convinced of. People who had expectations from others and would get disappointed when they were were not met. People whose needs and feelings had to be taken into account and often put above one's own. All things that Andrew didn't even think he was capable of unless it concerned his family, and even then he didn't feel he was all that good at it.

So why would he suddenly change his mind? Why did he suddenly feel like something was missing? It just made no sense.

_If I wanted a friend so bad I could have Derrick._

He knew Derrick would love to be his friend. He certainly acted like he already was, even when Andrew reminded him that wasn't the case. It was quite annoying.

It wasn't like he hated Derrick. He tolerated him... well no, that wasn't quite true. It had been at first, but if he wanted to be honest with himself he had to admit that he liked having him around. He was loud, reckless, didn't know when to shut the fuck up and when to mind his own business, often acted without thinking and was more or less as immature as his son.

Yet the thought of going to work and not having Derrick around left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

So yes, if he wanted to be fully honest, maybe he actually _liked_ Derrick.

_It's only because I'm used to him. It would be weird to not have him around._

Maybe it was the same with Alphonse. He had gotten so used to him that now it was weird not to talk to him. If that was the case all he needed was to keep ignoring him long enough, and then it would not feel so bad.

_Exactly who do you think you're fooling?_

Derrick was pretty much a part of his life at this point. A part he always made sure to keep a certain distance from, but after all those years it was natural to develop some degree of familiarity. He knew him, he knew Angela, he didn't know Valentine in person but he knew _of_ him.

As for Alphonse, how long had he known him from? Definitely not enough to feel that way about him.

So why, why was he so miserable around him now that they weren't talking?

_You know why._

He didn't know.

_You just don't want to._

  
  


It was a couple days after his talk with Angela that the occasion presented itself.

He'd gone out of the office to make a call to his doctor so that he could get a new appointment, only to be informed by his secretary that he was currently off and due to that, even when he came back the first available date was in the next month.

“Unless it's an emergency, in which case I can try to see if he can arrange something earlier”, she then added.

“No, no it's... it's not that important”, Andrew quickly replied.

_It's fine. I'm sure I'm just worrying too much._

“Should I confirm for next month then?”.

He hesitated.

“I... no. No it's- I just need a refill”, he lied. “That's all”.

“In that case I can ask him to write it for you as soon as he's back, you can come pick it up during the week. I'd say in two weeks just to be safe”.

“Yeah that's perfect”, he said, trying to match her cheerful tone. “That's good. I'll- next week”

“No, in two weeks”

“Yeah, sorry I meant-”. He sighed and rubbed his eyelids. That wasn't what he meant to say but somehow it came out wrong. He guessed he was tired. He was tired a lot those days. “I'll come in two weeks”.

After ending that call he put his phone back in his pocket and rested his hand on the metal railing, looking at the street in front of him. He was on the emergency staircase where he had last confronted Alphonse, as that was the only place he could think of where neither his boss or someone else from his office might overhear the conversation. The results from the drug test would come out in that week and he still had no idea of what would happen to him after that. If he wanted to keep his job, the last thing he wanted was to fuel Stevenson's suspicions.

He sighed and tried to push his worries away, looking down at the sorry excuse for a garden that was on that side of the building.

_We're so far up here._

He never noticed before how high his office was. He had a decent view on the surrounding buildings from the windows, so in retrospect it was obvious, but it wasn't something he ever actively noticed. Looking straight down like that gave him a whole different awareness of it. It was not entirely pleasant, in fact it was giving him vertigo, so he decided to head back.

And the emergency door opened.

“Ah”.

Alphonse was staring at him in surprise, a cigarette already in his mouth.

“I'll come back later”.

“No!”.

Andrew was not even thinking before replying, and once he did it was too late to bite his tongue. He felt his face heat up, especially when Alphonse raised one eyebrow and looked at him as if he expected him to continue.

_Why did I do that?_

“I...I...”, he stammered, closing his mouth and swallowing loudly before continuing. “You don't have to... I'll was- I'll just be going”.

Alphonse still looked at him weirdly for a second, then he shrugged and walked past him, so close that his shoulder brushed against him before he could move away.

Andrew turned around to look at him as Alphonse rested his back against the railing and lit his cigarette, not deigning him of a second glance.

Andrew felt a lump in his throat and couldn't help but stare as the other smoked and looked straight towards the horizon.

He didn't like being ignored like that. It felt bad.

“Weren't you going?”.

Andrew shuddered, face burning as he tried and failed to come up with a reply. The other wasn't even looking at him but there was no one else there so he knew he was talking to him.

Was it just his impression or his voice sounded...annoyed?

“Have you”, he asked, swallowing again as his mouth felt too dry all of a sudden. “Have you looked at the files that Derrick sent you?”.

Alphonse took another drag and finally looked at him, making him regret his words.

That look in his eyes left Andrew no doubt. Alphonse _was_ annoyed.

“I'm coming here for a break, not to be pestered about whether or not I'm doing my job. Else I would go to Stevenson's office”.

Andrew opened his mouth as if to retort but once again he could think of nothing.

“I'm...”, he muttered, but didn't even finish his sentence. Alphonse was still looking at him as if he wanted for nothing more than for him to get lost.

_Why?_

Frustrated and confused, Andrew turned around and all but ran back inside with his tail between his legs, wishing he had done so as soon as the other came.

  
  


“I was starting to feel abandoned”, Derrick joked as soon as he came back, before noticing the look on his face. “What's wrong?”.

“Nothing”, Andrew replied, going back to his seat and turning his screen back on.

_Why did he look at me like that?_

He'd never seen that look on his face before. He never wanted to see it again. If before he'd have felt scared at the thought of trying to talk him now he was terrified.

“Andy?”.

He ignored Derrick, up until the other scooted right next to him and whispered. “I'll pull the plug if you don't tell me what's wrong” in a half-joking, half-threatening tone.

“Fuck off”, he hissed, making him jump in surprise. He glared at him but regretted it as soon as he saw him slink back to his own desk looking like a kicked puppy.

“I tried to talk to Alphonse. He doesn't want to talk to me. Now you're happy?”, he snapped, glaring down at his keyboard.

“Did you apologize to him?”.

Andrew looked at him as if he'd grown a third head.

“Apolog- what for?”.

Derrick snorted.

“Andy, you...”. He stopped himself and clasped his hands together, pressing them against his lips and taking a deep breath before continuing. “You've been giving him the silent treatment for weeks, you gave him no explanation at all about...” - he looked around and lowered his voice - “...whatever happened between you, and now you expect him to what, go back and talk to you as if nothing happened?”.

Andrew didn't know what to say to that. He hadn't even considered... but of course. That was why.

_He's angry at you. He's angry because you hurt him._

He'd been so focused on his own feelings he had not stopped to consider how Alphonse might have felt. Of course, from his perspective it seemed absurd. He'd snapped at him, accused him of pretty much forcing himself on him, ran away and then never talked to him again. What _was_ he expecting?

_You're so stupid._

“How am I supposed to talk to him if he doesn't want me to talk?”.

“You should apologize, for starters”, Derrick said. “And I told you it was better not to talk here in the office”.

Andrew scoffed.

“And where then? It's clear he doesn't even want me around”.

“I'll invite him”, Derrick replied, shrugging. “He doesn't have to know you're coming too”.

Andrew wasn't convinced.

“What if he just leaves?”, he asked. “Besides he'd probably get angry with you for tricking him. Then he won't talk to you either”.

“Then we won't trick him. I'll find a way to bribe him or something”.

Andrew rolled his eyes.

_Yeah right._

“That's not gonna work”.

“Andy, trust me”.

“No”.

“Wait and you'll see”.

“Whatever”.

Derrick went back to his work as soon as the door opened, and Andrew carefully avoided looking in that direction. He didn't want to see Alphonse's face in that moment.

_Coward_ , a voice inside of him whispered, but he was too disheartened to even try to counter it.

He had tried talking to Alphonse, and that had been the result. It was a bad idea after all. He should have kept the fuck to himself like he had decided to in the first place.

And now Derrick wanted all three of them to go out? What exactly was he hoping to accomplish? Alphonse would still be pissed at him no matter the place.

_Not like he'll actually come, so._

He had nothing to worry about in the first place.

  
  


  
  


“Andy, my buddy, my pal-”.

“What do you want?”.

Andrew was in no mood for Derrick's shenanigans that morning. He had said goodbye to Angela for the last time before she left for her trip and was already dreading his own trip back home with the bus. Hopefully the timetable he printed was up to date.

“Guess who's going to hang out with us tonight?”.

“What in hell are you ta-”.

He froze.

_No. No way._

“You owe me one”.

“I don't- you're the one who wanted me so bad to talk to him. And it's not going to work anyway”.

“Not with that attitude for sure”.

Andrew groaned and got up to get some coffee, with Derrick promptly following him.

“You didn't even ask me if I was free. Angela isn't at home, I can't leave Valentine alone”.

Derrick shrugged. “Then take him with you”.

“No!”. Andrew looked at him as if he was crazy.

“I'm not going to drink”.

“Yeah, right...”.

“I'm serious!”.

Andrew had never seen Derrick walk out of a bar sober, and he was sure that wasn't going to change. Even now that he seemed to be more responsible than before.

“How old is he again?”.

“Sixte... almost seventeen”, Andrew replied. He still had to think of something to get him. “He'll be seventeen next month”.

“A Scorpio, huh”, Derrick remarked. “Well it's not like he's unable to take care of himself even if you're not at home for one day”.

Andrew shook his head. “That's not what I'm worried about...”. He thought back to Angela's suspicions, he could very well imagine how his son would spend the night if he knew he'd have the house to himself, and it wasn't like he could not tell him anything and leave him waiting.

“Come on, what's the worst that could happen?”.

Andrew groaned.

“Don't even make think of it”.

_If he fucking dares to set foot outside..._

No, no what was he even thinking? He couldn't actually go and leave him unsupervised. His son had already lied to him once, he couldn't trust him to not get himself in trouble.

But if he didn't go...

“We don't have to stay late. Al has already told me he'll bring us both back home”, Derrick insisted. He knew he couldn't use his car albeit he didn't know the real reason. Andrew had told him that Angela used it to go to her trip, which wasn't a lie but he couldn't have used it even if that hadn't been the case.

Andrew didn't know what to say. Well, he did, but he didn't want to. He should have told him it was not possible and that it was a waste of time anyway. He should have listened to his common sense, telling him that the only thing to be gained from it was trouble.

And yet...

“I'm not sure what you're expecting to happen, but fine”.

_I told her I would make an effort._

That wasn't the real reason, he knew it. But...

_It can't go on like this._

At the very least he should get closure.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really glad about the fact that this story has resonated with so many people, I think this is the story I received that had most responses even including stories posted back in the day where it was normal to receive a lot of comments on LJ and other sites. 
> 
> It's true that this started as a PWP in terms of intent back when I was still in the writing process of the first part, but even by the point I was posting it that changed completely. I am very attached to this story for a lot of reasons and I think the reasons it stuck with people even beyond the smut ~~(as these last chapters have been scarce in that department... it will come back, eventually)~~ are not that different. At the risk of looking #fakedeep and all, there is more to this than it seems. I can't elaborate on it now because it would be Big Spoilers, but I will get into it when the story is over.
> 
>  
> 
> In conclusion, I was thinking that as a sort of thank you and recognition for all the positive feedback I could write a one-shot spin-off either if we reach a certain milestone or as a sort of Winter Festivities special. I'm going to think of a few options and give you a poll to vote on, some things I was thinking of for example were a short on Andrew and Derrick before the events of this story, a PWP, a sort of crack!fic type thing involving the main characters or a Christmas-themed thing. You can also leave suggestions if you like!
> 
> \-----
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	27. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> F is for friends that do stuff together  
> U is for you and me  
> N is for anywhere and anytime at all,
> 
> That's when bad stuff might come in...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off huge apology for the delay! I was at a festival during the weekend so I had drafted the chapter to publish it via phone. Unfortunately it seems AO3 ate my draft as I was unable to find it anywhere, and since I didn't have my laptop with me nor a copy of the chapter I had to wait till I got home to post it (basically I just came home, had dinner and now I'm rewriting all the notes etc... sigh)
> 
> The poll for the one-shot will be probably in the next chapter as I don't have the energy to make it now and check if I added all options, sorry XP
> 
> However, check out this awesome fanart of young!Andrew that [Assh0le-0cs](https://www.deviantart.com/assh0le-0cs/) made:
> 
> Look at my bishonen son!!!

 

Fifteen minutes after they all left Andrew was already regretting his choice.

_It's too late to back down now._

Derrick was chatting with Alphonse in the front, but he was not even listening to them. His mind was still full of worries regarding what Valentine could get up to while he wasn't around, especially after his reaction to the news and to his warning about how he would not hesitate to ground him until Angela was back if he discovered that he'd been sneaking out while he wasn't there.

“So you can go out partying with your boyfriend and I can't even leave the house?”, Valentine had said, half-teasing and half-annoyed.

“I'm not-”. Andrew had sighed and rubbed his palm against his mouth. It was no use trying to discuss with him, the boy would only try to push his buttons on purpose and he knew that. "I wouldn't have to do this if you hadn't lied to me last time".

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I didn't want to go out anyway". Andrew had heard a crinkling sound in the background and furrowed his eyebrows. Snacking at that hour... he hadn't wanted to get into an argument so he had decided to let it slide.

"Don't have dinner at some ungodly hour either. There's some chicken in the oven", he told him. "And don't bring any girls home either".

Valentine had let out a small sound that he could not quite decipher from the phone. Probably some kind of annoyed scoff. Yet when he spoke again he had sounded almost amused for some reason.

"I'm not bringing any girls home dad, scout's honor".

The conversation had left him anything but reassured, but at that point he couldn't ask Alphonse to bring him home. The entire point of that outing was for him to try and make peace with him, not to give him any more reasons to resent him.

"Should we go to the usual place?", the man in question asked them, to which Andrew gave a nod and a small noise of approval and Derrick enthusiastically agreed.

"Sometimes it's best to stick to the habits", Alphonse commented, glancing to Andrew through the rear-view mirror.

Andrew could not quite tell what his smile meant, somehow it didn't seem like a friendly gesture even if nothing in his tone indicated hostility. Maybe he was reading too much into it.

"Yeah", he said quietly, looking away and pretending to pay attention to the outside view.

_How am I going to talk to him if I can't even look at him without feeling uncomfortable?_

The rest of the ride was fairly quiet, it seemed they all were absorbed in their own thoughts. Andrew tried to glance back to Alphonse a few times but the other was not deigning him of any attention. Hopefully that would change after they got to the bar.

_Hopefully..._

  
  


Much to Andrew's surprise, Derrick ordered a coke instead of beer, leaving Alphonse to be the only one to get a drink. Maybe Derrick should have been the designated driver after all. Then again, he wasn't entirely sure if he could drive in the first place. He always went home by foot or by bike since he lived relatively close to both their workplace and the bar. Had he ever seen a car at his place? If he did then he couldn't remember it.

_Then again that isn't saying much these days. I can barely remember it's Thursday._

At least he thought it was... if he remembered well, Angela was leaving on that week's Thursday and coming back on next week's Tuesday. So it had to be Thursday.

"Cheers!". the three men raised their glasses and clinked them together, and despite everything Andrew was feeling a bit better. The familiar atmosphere of the bar was reassuring, even if the last time they had been there things had taken a stressful turn.

"It's nice to be back here", Derrick said, looking around at the rest of the crowd. Even on a workday the place was far from empty, albeit the current clientele seemed to be older than usual. Not too far from them was a table of pensioners playing a game of cards.

"It is", Alphonse agreed. "Just remember to warn us if you feel like taking a nap by the dumpsters".

"Ha ha, no way. I've got to call Susan later", Derrick replied. "She was too busy to come but she wanted to meet you guys".

"Sure. She seems quite nice. I take it things are going well with her."

"Very well! We're talking of living together... well, not right now but, someday".

"Wow! That's a big step."

"Yeah. But I think, well, she's really cool and I've never gotten along so well with a woman before. Everyone I tried to date before has been too immature to take things seriously... maybe I was too".

"Yeah, no wonder", Andrew replied, grinning as Derrick pretended to shove him.

He followed the conversation that ensued without saying much, listening to the other two more than engaging with them. It felt nice to be there and yet there was something off. Normally the conversation would shift naturally from one to the other but this time Alphonse seemed to be entirely focused on Derrick. It didn't irk him too much at first but as time went on Andrew was starting to get frustrated.

_What happened to getting us back to talking together?_

Alphonse was distracting Derrick from his goal and the idiot wasn't even realizing it. It was so clear to Andrew, so why didn't he notice? Maybe he didn't care after all. Maybe he only wanted an excuse to go out and pass the time.

He knew it wasn't fair to think like that, but he couldn't help but feel resentful. For all the attention they were paying to him he might as well not be there.

_Whatever. I should have gone home after all._

He looked down at his empty glass, wishing to himself that it had been alcohol instead. At least he could have had something to distract himself if he had gotten a drink.

_I can't._

To be fair, how much of an adverse effect could it have if it was just one? It would be out of his system before he even got home.

_No way. Don't even think about it._

He didn't have to get a cocktail. It could just be a beer.

_There's barely any alcohol in there._

"What was that beer that you got last time?", he asked Derrick.

"Huh? Ah, a red lager", Derrick said, interrupting his story for about two seconds to think about it before going back to telling Alphonse about his last date.

"I'll have one of that", Andrew murmured to himself, catching the attention of the bartender and watching him pour a large glass of the amber liquid.

_It's ok. We can get some snacks, and I'll be sober again by the time we're out._

Ignoring the alarmed voice at the back of his head, Andrew raised his glass and took a generous sip. It tasted good, he had to admit. He took another sip to occupy himself as he watched more than listened to the other two. Derrick was always eager to blabber on for hours with anyone who would give him attention. It kind of pissed him off.

_Is that the case, or is it because you're jealous?_

He was taken aback by the thought. No, no it couldn't be that. He didn't like to be ignored, that was all. He also grew bored of hearing about Derrick's disastrous attempt at pursuing his last not-quite-girlfriend.

_What is so interesting about it anyway? He's told us about it at least three times before._

Still Alphonse acted as if Derrick was telling him the most engaging tale. What was he smiling so much for? It wasn't that funny the first time he heard it either. Surely he had to be as bored of it as Andrew was. So why was he humouring him instead of changing the subject?

"Is anything alright?", Alphonse asked him out of nowhere, making him stiffen in his seat.

"Yeah, sure", Andrew replied with a shrug, but now Derrick was looking at him too. He seemed to have a somewhat apologetic look on his face, as if only now realizing he'd been monopolizing the conversation.

_About fucking time._

"I'm just worried about Valentine", he lied. "I'm not used to not having my wife at home".

"It's gonna be fine", Derrick reassured him, giving him an energetic pat on the shoulder. "He's probably browsing every category of porn imaginable right now".

Andrew scoffed. That was not the sort of reassurance he needed. He guessed it would still be a better option than if he was outside or with his girlfriend, but that didn't mean he liked that mental image.

"Everyone has secrets, Andrew", Alphonse said, staring at him with an uncomfortably intense gaze. "I'm sure your son is no exception".

Andrew clenched his hand around the glass and downed another sip, unable to take his eyes away from the other's knowing gaze even as his face reddened.

_What are you getting at?,_ he almost wanted to ask but he didn't dare to. Not with Derrick around.

Alphonse laughed and ordered another drink, while Andrew sat there fuming as he finished his own. He wanted to wipe that amused grin from the other's face, but he reminded himself he was supposed to make amends.

_Why does he have to be like this? It's like he's trying to get on my nerves._

To make matters worse, once the conversation resumed Alphonse kept on talking pretty much solely with Derrick, even when the other man tried to redirect the conversation towards Andrew.

If he had any doubts before now he knew for sure that Alphonse was doing it on purpose.

_Fucking bastard._

He tilted the glass against his lips only to realize that it was empty.

_Damn. Already?_

He was feeling a slight buzz, but it was not even close to be enough to allow him to stomach the rest of the evening if that was how it was going to play out.

_I should find an excuse to get back home._

Maybe that was what Alphonse wanted. He sure was acting like he didn't want him around.

_Fine. What do I care._

He put back the glass on the table and the bartender asked him if he wanted a refill.

_Know what._

"Yeah".

_Fuck it. I don't care._

The second beer did not make the situation more bearable, but at least he found that his disappointment and sadness were leaving place to a growing irritation, and that was better than sulking and feeling like he wanted to cry.

_Why did I even want to talk to him in the first place? He's a fucking prick. I bet he only accepted just to shove in my face how much he does not give a shit about me. Isn't Derrick just great? You two sure get along well huh. Want to suck his cock since you're at it?_

He was clenching his glass so hard that his hand was shaking. It clinked against his teeth when he lifted it to his mouth.

Empty.

"You sure drink quick", Alphonse remarked with a small chuckle.

_You sure are observant for someone who's acting like I'm not even here._

Andrew shrugged.

"I'm not the one driving".

"You're working tomorrow".

That was the sort of thing he would usually tell Derrick. He didn't need someone to tell him that, much less that fucking asshole.

"Piss off".

Derrick looked like he only then noticed the tension between them, but before he could intervene Alphonse got up from his chair.

"Actually, I was just thinking I needed the bathroom", he joked, leaving the two men to stare at his back.

_Good. Good fucking riddance._

"Andrew what are you doing?", Derrick asked him, alarmed.

"I'm not the one who started it", Andrew replied, waiting for his glass to be refilled again before downing half of it with one gulp. He felt a quiet sort of satisfaction at having made Alphonse leave them at least temporarily, but also something much more unpleasant. A confusing, sort-of-bubbling feeling coiling up in his stomach. It wasn't anger, as much as he wished it was.

_Whatever it is, I don't care._

The last thing he wanted was to dwell on it.

"You were supposed to apologize to him, not start a fight", Derrick insisted, much to Andrew's annoyance.

_You sure have helped so much with that now have you._

"What's even the point. He's barely said a word to me the whole evening", he said, looking down at his beer. His thoughts felt slippery and shapeless like melted soap, leaving an unpleasant taste in his mouth even as he tried to drown them with more alcohol.

_What should it even matter, it's clear he doesn't want me to be his friend. Saves me a lot of grief in the first place._

"Maybe you should take the first step", Derrick suggested.

Andrew glared down at his glass again, downed the whole thing and then slammed it on the counter.

"Fine. I'll go apologize",

"What, not now-"

"Shut up", Andrew grumbled as he got up, and the room swayed around him for a few seconds before he regained his balance.

_Let's go find that fucker._

Marching up to the bathroom, ignoring Derrick's calls as usual, he barged in and found Alphonse washing his hands.

"Wow, you look terrible", the man said, eyeing him up and down.

"Shut up", Andrew hissed, the bubbling feeling growing stronger now that he was in front of him again. He wanted to punch him right in that stupid face but he wasn't drunk enough not to know that was a terrible idea. Besides he didn't want to hurt him. He wanted...

"So, what do you want?", Alphonse asked, walking up to the hand dryer and pushing the button. The loud noise echoed unpleasantly in Andrew's brain, it made his already confused thought swirl around as his brain struggled to process everything at once. The anger, the hurt, the mysterious feeling growing in his stomach, the urge to hit him and yell at him and ask him why the fuck he was behaving like that, the loud blaring sound of the fan inside the machine almost like a scream of alarm, the smell coming off from the other man reminding him of that night and that other night and the rain...

"I thought you wanted me to 'leave you the fuck alone'. Isn't that what you said last time?", Alphonse continued, staring him down until Andrew was shaking from the weight of his gaze. The man took a step forward and Andrew wanted to run, while a part of him still wanted to attack the other, but all he could do was to stand there, frozen in place as Alphonse kept striding towards him.

_No no no no..._

"I just...", Andrew struggled to respond, feeling his mouth strangely dry and his tongue tied. "I wanted- was trying to make amends".

Alphonse stopped right in front of him, black eyes fixed on Andrew as he loomed over him.

"Why?"

Such a simple question, yet he found it difficult to respond.

"Because..."

_I was asked to,_ was what he wanted to say.

"...because I want us to be friends".

_That's not-_

But it was, wasn't it? As much as he didn't want to admit it, in that moment he knew it to be true.

Whatever Andrew had expected, it wasn't for Alphonse to _laugh at him._ Still, even as he felt his face flush from the humiliation he couldn't bring himself to look away or to move an inch. In fact, he felt himself drawn towards him like a moth to a flame.

"I can't be your friend, Andrew".

His heart skipped a beat.

_Why?_

He was confused, angry, betrayed almost. The feeling in his stomach uncoiled and boiled over, overriding everything else.

"Why don't you ask Derrick? I'm sure he'd love to be your friend".

And with that Alphonse moved aside and walked forward, brushing past him as he made his way to the door.

"Come on, let's go back to-"

Andrew didn't think. He just acted.

When his hands grasped on Alphonse's shoulders the man barely raised one eyebrow. "What a- _oof!_ ".

Before he could finish his sentence he was slammed against the wall.

Andrew pressed his whole weight against him to keep him there as his mouth clashed against Alphonse's, encountering only a few moments of resistance before the other's arms wrapped around him and his tongue slipped past his lips, enveloping him in his warmth.

His heart thrummed in his ears, so loud that he could hear nothing else over the deafening noise as his own tongue chased Alphonse's, the familiar flavour invading his mouth and overpowering his senses.

For an endless moment there was nothing there except the warm body in front of him and his scent, smothering every last semblance of a thought forming inside his mind. He was not thinking of Angela, he was not thinking of Valentine, he was not thinking about his nightmares and visions nor anything else that wasn't Alphonse and the rush he felt in that moment.

"...Andy?!"

He froze.

_No!_

He jolted back but it was too late. The door was open and Derrick was standing there, eyes wide from the shock as he stared at them without making a sound.

_Fuck._

"What are... what are you doi-?".

Andrew didn't wait to listen or to explain himself, pushing him aside as he darted out of the bathroom, shouldering anyone in his way as he ran outside, under the pouring rain.

_Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!_

He kept on running until his legs couldn't handle it any more, and then he collapsed, kneeling down in an unknown alley and letting himself get drenched.

_Why?_

He knew how it must have looked like. He knew, he knew and the worst thing was there was no explanation that would hold water. The look on Derrick's face had said it all.

_How could you?_

He didn't know what came over him. He only had wanted for Alphonse to talk to him again.

_I only wanted... I couldn't stand how he was ignoring me, I didn't want to... why did I kiss him?_

And why didn't Alphonse push him away? He still could feel his warm lips against his, the touch of his tongue, his hands-

_No._

He curled up on himself, feeling the cold slowly seep through his body even if inside he was still burning up.

_I didn't-_

Didn't want? No.

More like he didn't _think._

How could he face them again? How could he face _himself_ again now that he had confirmed what he hadn't even dared to voice in his own thoughts?

_I wanted him... I still want him._

He felt disgusting and miserable. It would have been fine if only he didn't have to know, and Derrick saw him, _he saw him_ , and he knew he would not believe him a second time if he had told him it was just a drunken mistake.

"Andrew?".

He raised his head and gasped.

"A-Alphonse?".

How could he be there so quickly? No... maybe it was another one of his mind tricks. Maybe he was only imagining him. Even so, he still held his breath as the other approached him. He wanted to run again or to explain himself but he couldn't, he couldn't do anything but stare up at him and tremble in his presence.

"I told you, I can't be your friend", the man said, crouching down and placing a hand under his chin to tilt up his face. "Not only your friend."

Andrew felt his heart clench.

"I can't-"

"Shh, it's ok", Alphonse replied, hands moving to stroke his cheek and his hair. "Don't worry".

Andrew stared up at him with a terrified look on his face as the man leaned in closer. If those lips descended on his he knew he would have no way to fight against it.

_It's not fair._

But Alphonse merely pulled him into a hug and pressed his head against his own chest, and after a long hesitant moment Andrew grasped on his shoulders and wept, ignoring the rain and the cold as his heart was twisted in guilt. Even then he felt a treacherous warmth spreading through his body from the other man's touch and he hated himself for it.

Because he knew, he knew that for the smallest moment before feeling relieved he had been disappointed when the other had not tried to kiss him.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	29. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Any more dramatic rainy scenes and this will turn into a David Cage game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end of part 2 (well not THAT close but still), which is both stressful and exciting. So many scenes I've been looking forward to write! I think it's gonna be around the same lenght as part 1 but it might vary a bit. But this is where the plot really kicks in. I also have finally decided on a title for part 3.

 

Alphonse hadn't said a word as he drove him back to his house, but this time Andrew found the silence to be a relief.

He could tell that Alphonse wasn't angry at him, not anymore, but he still did not want to confront him.

Or rather, he didn't want to confront what just happened between them. If they never talked about it maybe it could be as if it never happened in the first place.

_Yeah, right._

"Are you sure Derrick will be ok?", he asked after a while, even if they were already halfway to his house and he was secretly relieved to not have to see the other man. Still, he couldn't help but worry. He knew he had gone back by foot before and this time he wasn't even drunk, but it was still night time even if it was earlier than they would usually come back.

"He was on his way when I left", Alphonse replied. "By the way, you didn't pay for your beers".

"Oh". Andrew had completely forgotten about that. He hadn't even thought about it in his hurry.

"It's alright. I took care of it".

"Ah". Andrew looked out of the window. "...thanks. How much-"

"Don't worry about it", Alphonse cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Andrew bit his tongue. He wanted to insist but he didn't want to start an argument with him, even if he didn't like the idea of owing him favours. At the moment he had more pressing matters on his mind. Like the fact that he still could not fathom what possessed him to do what he had done.

_There's not that much to it, is there. I wanted to, and I did._

But that wasn't the point. He wasn't the type to do things just because he wanted to.

_It was the alcohol. I shouldn't have been drinking._

He couldn't take his medicines like that. He would have to skip them. He was already dreading to discover what would happen, given the last time he had done so things had gotten... unpleasant, to put it mildly.

"Are you still angry with me?", Alphonse asked, taking him by surprise.

"I... what? No".

_Not with him, no._

"I see. Guess we'll be back to acting like we're complete strangers", Alphonse told him, still keeping his eyes on the road.

Andrew didn't know what to say. He wanted to tell him it didn't have to affect them, that they could kept going as if nothing had happened, but he knew it was a lie.

"What am I supposed to do?", he asked, not sure if he even was asking that to himself or to the other man.

Alphonse stopped for a red light and looked at him, smiling as he shook his head.

"How should I know?", he asked. "I don't know what you want, Andrew. And I don't think you do either".

"That's...". Andrew glanced back at him but quickly looked away. "It's not important".

Alphonse let out a small bitter laugh, driving off as soon as the light turned green.

" 'It's not important' ", he repeated. "Alright".

Andrew could tell the other wanted to say more and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it.

What was he expecting from him? That he'd tell him he wanted more from him than friendship? That he'd throw everything aside for him? He couldn't do that, and it wasn't what he wanted either. He didn't want to lose his family. He didn't want to lose Angela... so what was he supposed to do?

"That's always the case with you, isn't it?", Alphonse said after a few minutes of tense silence. "It doesn't matter... tell me, how many times do you have to tell yourself that before it stops sounding like bullshit?".

"It's none of your business", Andrew replied, not liking the way the other was talking to him. What did he know about him anyway?

"You're right. It isn't. What am I to you, if not another presence to tolerate in your life.", Alphonse mused. "Guess it was foolish to expect anything different".

"You're right", Andrew said, trying to keep his voice steady. "It was".

"Maybe I should leave you for good. So you wouldn't have to put up with my presence disturbing your work".

Andrew looked at him again, his stomach clenching at those words.

"What... what do you mean?"

"I'm sure Stevenson can find someone more suited for your team. I'm only your junior, it shouldn't take long to show someone else the ropes-"

"No!".

Andrew couldn't hold back from yelling, turning pale as he realized what the other was suggesting. He couldn't stand the thought of driving him away, he couldn't stand the thought of him no longer being part of his life.

"Why not? It doesn't matter to you, does it, so why should you care if I leave?".

_I don't._ It should have been easy enough to say, it should have been nothing but a relief, but the only thing he was feeling was panic and horror.

"You can't- you can't leave the office", he said in a small voice, desperately trying to think of a way to convince him. "The project-".

The car came to a screeching halt and Andrew froze up in panic.

_What are you doing?!_

" _Fuck the damn project_ , Andrew. That's not what I asked!".

"We're in the middle of a-"

"There's no one here anyway", Alphonse cut him off again, slamming his hand on the dashboard. "Answer my fucking question!"

Andrew had never seen him so angry, it was terrifying and yet he couldn't help but feel moved, in a way. He told himself it was ridiculous, that he should turn around and run out of the car, after all he wasn't too far from home and who knew what the other could do in that state, but he couldn't, he couldn't do anything but stare at him and feel his heart beat so fast it felt like it would burst out of his chest.

"I don't want you to go", he whispered, shaking as the other stared at him, wishing he could hide from those eyes that seemed to see straight through him.

"Why? What is it to you?", Alphonse asked, moving in closer.

Andrew glanced at the door handle and then back to him, the urge to run away getting stronger by the second, but the thought that if he did it might be the last he saw of him kept him frozen in place.

"I don't-".

He held his breath as Alphonse closed in on him, one hand pressed against the window while the other slid into his hair, trapping him there.

He closed his eyes, as tense as a bowstring as he expected the other's mouth to claim his, but Alphonse lips only brushed against his as he spoke.

"What do you want from me, Andrew?".

He pressed against his chest to push him back and, much to his surprise, felt his body give way. He no longer was holding his breath as he opened his eyes, but what he saw immediately smothered his relief.

Alphonse was looking at him so coldly that he could have sworn the temperature inside his car had dropped by a few degrees.

"Get out of here".

He didn't move.

"I'm far too old for this shit, Andrew".

"You're...". Andrew struggled to think of something, anything to say to him."you're not...really leaving, right that's..."

Alphonse leaned in again to open his door, letting the cold of the night fill the car. Still, Andrew was sure that his shaking had nothing to do with the temperature.

"Go back to your family, Andrew. Pretend you never met me, if that makes it easier"

"No..."

Alphonse let out a loud tsk, taking out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it as he waited.

Andrew clenched his fists, unsure of whether he wanted to hit him or yell at him or something, anything but waiting in cold silence for...

_For what?_

"I don't want you to leave", he whispered, hating himself for the desperate note in his voice.

"So? It doesn't matter what you want. Right?". Alphonse blew a puff of smoke right into his face, smirking as Andrew coughed and glared at him. "So come on, get out of here and you'll never have to see me again. No more temptations, no more doubts, no more secrets to hide from your wife. It's only for the best, after all."

A part of him urged him to do just that, to run as fast as he could and not look back, but even if he did he had the most horrible feeling that the other would show up behind the nearest corner and drag him into a dark alley to bash his head in or something even worse.

It was ridiculous of course, he was freaking out over nothing as usual, but as he told himself that he'd be alone out there once he stepped out of that door, somehow it only made his fear grow stronger.

_Alone... he'll really leave me alone?_

"You know that's what you should do", Alphonse insisted, his smile growing wider as he spoke, even as his eyes remained cold and empty, like endless pits threatening to swallow him whole. "Come on, do what you're supposed to. Live the rest of your life pretending that, deep inside, that's what you've always wanted all along". The tip of his cigarette lit up when he inhaled, illuminating his features for a second. His face was surrounded by the smoke as he blew it out, and to Andrew's tired eyes it almost seemed as if it was fraying at the edges and threatening to disappear at the first breath of wind. "After all, isn't that what you've always done?"

Andrew put his hand on the door handle, staring out into the distance. The rain kept pouring all around them, dripping inside from the edge of the roof. His arm was getting drenched again but he barely felt it, he could barely feel anything that wasn't the weight of that hostile gaze and the tension clenching the pit of his stomach.

_Go,_ he told himself. _Get out of there, run, run and never look back._

"Go on, Andrew. Get out of here now and I promise I'll never bother you again," Alphonse said, his face so close that he could feel him breathing against his neck. "Scout's honour".

Andrew tightened his hand around the handle, shaking as his mind was flooded with memories he never wanted to think back to, the voice from before screaming at him to run before it was too late, but he couldn't. He knew what he had to do but he couldn't make himself move, the other's words echoing in his head together with the flashing memories and the panicked voice turning into an incoherent screaming as something else stirred inside him and stopped him from moving.

_I'll never see him again._

A heavy sigh, then Alphonse grasped on his shoulder and pushed.

"Get out of there already, you're drenching up my car-".

Andrew slammed the door close before the other could push him out, and Alphonse fell silent.

For the longest moment he didn't dare to look up, and when he did he felt a cold shiver run down his spine as Alphonse smiled at him, his hand moving from his shoulder to his chest.

"I always thought that free will was humanity's greatest burden", the man whispered, inching closer and closer until Andrew was trapped against the door, unable to escape if not...

_I could still open it. It's right behind me, I could-_

"What's the point of having choices when none of them will make you happy?", Alphonse continued, hands tugging at his clothes and sliding right underneath, making him shiver even as the skin against his was not cold to the touch but rather almost scalding hot, or at least so it seemed to him when his own breath was clouding up from the night chill. "Do you think it's worth choosing between varying shades of misery? Wouldn't it all be so much simpler if all you had to do was to follow your instinct?"

"I-I don't...", he whispered, but he was at loss of words. He didn't understand, or maybe he didn't want to, and in the end none of it mattered because the other's mouth was right against his and he barely had the time to register that he could not see his breath before he was kissed.

A surge of panic took over him. His hands grasped on the other's shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket as he thought of fighting back, of pushing him away while he still could, and as he did Alphonse surprised him by pulling back and looking at him, inching away from him.

His hands clenched up hard, hard enough for it to hurt, but Alphonse didn't even wince. He looked at him without speaking, only waiting, and once again Andrew didn't think.

He acted.

  
  


  
  


The house seemed different without Angela in it. Colder and silent, even if by that time she would already have fallen asleep.

Andrew walked up the stairs slowly, as if every step weighted him down. He was drenched to the bone and shivering, almost completely sober by that point. He could only be glad that the rain had washed away any tears he might have cried on the way there, even if there was no one around to see.

_I need to take a shower._

All he wanted was to let himself collapse somewhere and hope for a dreamless sleep, but he knew he would catch something if he didn't warm himself up quick. Still, climbing up the stairs already took so much effort that he feared he might have to literally crawl up to the bathroom.

Forcing himself to get through the corridor, he placed his hand on the door handle.

_"Andy?"_

A cold shiver ran up his spine but he forced himself to brush it off.

_I could have sworn-_

And the voice called again, even louder.

_"Andy...let me in"._

He gritted his teeth and swallowed loudly, his whole body tensing up as he tried to tell himself it was nothing.

_It's not here, it's not really here, I just have to ignore it..._

His mind was already conjuring up all sorts of scenarios that could have come straight out of a horror movie as he forced his hand to move, pulling down the handle and pushing on the door to open it.

_Huh?_

He tried again, but the result didn't change.

_What the..._

"V... Valentine?", he called out, his voice hoarse and sounding more like a feeble croaking. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time loud enough to be heard by anyone inside the room. "Valentine? Val? What are you doing at this hour?". He slammed his hand on the door, fear rising up inside him as he heard no answer, not even from the voice he thought he had heard before.

_He couldn't be there. He doesn't even know where I live._

He would have recognized that voice anywhere, even after not hearing it from what felt like an eternity.

"...Charles?", he called out, his voice lower and cautious.

_I swear to god if you are in there..._

"Dad?"

Valentine's voice made him feel relieved for a grand total of five seconds. The time it took for him to realize it was not coming from the bathroom, but rather from behind him.

"Val!"

He glanced at him, recognizing his form even in the faint light coming from the window. The street lamps were too far to illuminate the corridor even when it wasn't pouring, so it took him a few more moments to notice that he was not only standing there awake at some ungodly hour but he was-

_Naked?_

-wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, from the looks of it.

He was up, and there was someone in the bathroom, someone who did not want to let their presence know.

_Oh you fucking little..._

"You can't fucking do as you're told for once?", he snapped, anger mounting inside him as he thought of how stupid he had been to believe him when he'd already lied to him once, he should have known there was no way that brat would actually give a fuck about shitting all over his trust.

"Language, dad", was Valentine's only reply, and for a moment Andrew wanted to strangle him. He actually imagined himself lunging at him, closing his hands around his throat and-

_What the fucking hell is wrong with you!?_

He groaned loudly and pressed his palms against his face. He hated this. He hated feeling like that about Valentine. He wanted to trust him but how could he?

"I don't see what's the problem. You told me I couldn't have girls around. You didn't say I couldn't invite Mike", Valentine said, making him stop in his tracks for a moment.

_He's lying again_.

"I told him to use the shower upstairs, since mom doesn't like guests to go to the other bathroom. He probably has finished by now", the boy continued.

Andrew moved away from the door and glanced back at it, then at his son.

"Yeah, right", he said, shaking his head. He was so done with everything and everyone. He didn't want to deal with that bullshit. He was half-tempted to try and kick the door open but he didn't, if for nothing else then for the fact that he seriously worried he might faint from the effort. He felt as if he had been drained of all his energy, and he wasn't entirely sure it was only because of the fact that he had ran all that way there under that storm.

"Oh for fuck's...". Valentine groaned and walked past him, hammering on the door with his fist. "MIKE! Come on, dad's come back and needs the shower. Get your ass out of there".

There was a small click and then the door opened. Andrew was so sure that it was all a bluff that he didn't know what to say when he saw the familiar looking figure walk out of there, a towel wrapped around his waist and his bleached blond hair still dripping with water. The light of the bathroom allowed him to see clearly that there was no one else in there, still he couldn't help but peek inside and have a look behind the door, as if he expected a girl to appear in front of him out of nowhere.

_Oh..._

"Hi", Mike said, sounding and looking quite embarrassed. Probably because at that point Andrew was staring at him without saying anything, looking rather shocked.

"Uhm, hi. I didn't know you were coming over", he awkwardly said, not even knowing how to feel at that point. All he knew was that he was more exhausted than before, so he barely murmured a quick "goodnight" before dragging himself inside the bathroom and slamming the door closed.

_I'm getting more and more paranoid_ , he thought. _But he did lie to me before, so how would I know?_

He was frustrated and angry at himself, but also angry at Valentine for making him worry so much. He could have told him something and then he would not have freaked out on him! Why would he not tell him Mike was coming over?

_Because you couldn't say no if you didn't know it._

But he wouldn't... well, maybe he would. Angela wasn't there, and it wasn't as bad as having some girlfriend around and doing God-knows-what with her but he wasn't naive enough not to know that sex wasn't the only vice that Valentine might have dabbled in. He already knew he had smoked at least once, hopefully only cigarettes and that was bad enough already. Mike didn't seem like the type to do drugs but that didn't mean anything.

_God, I don't even want to think about it._

If he wasn't so tired he probably would have checked in on them to see what they were up to, but he couldn't be bothered. It should have made him feel guilty, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Besides, as he took off his clothes and glanced at the fogged up mirror, he thought he had more than enough reasons to feel guilty as it was.

_"Don't squirm around so much"_

He clenched his fists and walked over the soggy pile to get into the shower, turning on the water and shuddering at the sudden hot blast that hit his skin.

_"Give me your hand..."_

He didn't want to think, didn't want to remember that voice nor that hot breath against his neck, nor the hand that wrapped around his wrist and pulled it down until...

_"There, can you feel it?"_

He slammed his head against the tiles and welcomed the bright flash of pain that emptied his head for a moment, even as he almost fell over and slipped down. He had to grasp on the tube and it was hot, even hotter than-

_/His skin was warm and he could almost feel the pulse of his heart through it, and his first impulse was to pull back as if he'd been scalded but he couldn't/_

"Fuck!", he growled through gritted teeth, pulling himself up and grasping on the handle with the other hand until the water was so hot it burned.

_"Damn you're so hot, look at this... I've barely touched you and you're already like this"._

"Fucking stop!", he hissed, scratching at his arms and his chest as if to scrape the skin off of himself, wishing he could peel it off until not a single cell that was touched by those hands was left.

_"You're doing so good... fuck, what's gotten into you? You looked like you were about to run away and now you're not letting me go"_

Even as his skin turned bright red he was shivering, his eyes blurred up with angry tears and a scream lodged into his throat, unable to get out.

_"A-Alphonse I... I can't... ah! I can't... hold back... I'm going to..."_

"No...", he whispered, pressing his palms against his eyes and pulling on his hair. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream and punch the wall until his knuckles bled and vomit until he could no longer taste him on his tongue nor hear himself crying out in pleasure, over and over again in his mind as that hand stroked his cock and pushed him closer and closer to-

"FUCK YOU!", he yelled, throwing the soap against the glass and almost hoping for it to shatter, watching it slide and fall down and letting himself do the same against the tiled wall, curling up and wrapping his arms around himself.

_"Look at that... you were really backed up"._

_/His hand, his hand was covered in it as he lifted it and he could feel his own hand slide along his skin, palm slippery with precum as the body above him shuddered and gasped, and then something warm was spurting all over his wrist and his arm and he knew, even without looking down he knew that Alphonse was coming with a gasp and a strangled moan, the hand that was still in his hair clamping down so hard that he hissed in pain/_

He hadn't even bothered to tidy himself up before darting out of there, ignoring the voice calling him back.

_"Where are you going, Andrew?"_

He hadn't stopped nor looked back, he hadn't dared to, not until he was sure he could no longer see him nor his car.

_"I thought you were over running from what you want at this point!"_

Even so, no matter how far he went nor how fast he kept running, he could have sworn he was still hearing his laughter over the pounding rain.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	30. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To quote my betareader (AKA [BlaCkreed4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaCkreed4/pseuds/BlaCkreed4), check her out if you want to read Sabretooth/Wolverine fics or Wolverine/Nightcrawler ones. Also original pirate-themed stories and Tenipuri stuff):
> 
> "someone save this man from Alphonse and himself XDDD"  
> "Angela come back xDDD"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me this long to set up the poll but here it is: [[X]](https://www.strawpoll.me/16595348)
> 
> For those who missed it, in an earlier chapter I mentioned I might make a short one-shot related to this story as a sort of thank-you to all the feedback and to either celebrate reaching a certain milestone or as a special thing for the upcoming festivities. So if that's something you'd like to see feel free to vote which option you'd want to see the most (You can also vote more than one if you want) and I will be picking the top-rated one.
> 
> If you have any other suggestions for what you'd like to see feel free to mention it in a comment, unfortunately it did not let me add a fill-in option in the poll and I didn't find other quick-poll making websites that did.

 

“ _Andy?”_

Andrew felt as if he was floating and sinking at the same time, his breath short and laboured.

He couldn’t see anything, but he could hear someone calling him in the distance.

“ _Andy?”_

He didn’t want to answer, but even if he did he was sure he would not be able to speak. As he tried to open his eyes his eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and the same thing happened when he tried to move.

_I’m stuck!_ , he thought, and even through the fog in his brain he could feel the panic creeping as he realized he could not move.

Meanwhile the voice was getting closer.

“ _Andy, come on out...”_

_No,_ he thought, wanting to get away from it but his whole body felt like it had been dipped in lead, or like he was still submerged in it. Even his chest felt tight, as if something was constricting it.

“ _Come on, let’s go now”,_

“ _You’re going to be late”._

The voice now sounded like it was _right there_ and soon enough he felt someone grasp his shoulders.

_I don’t want to go!_ , he tried to scream, but his mouth wouldn’t open up or form words no matter how much he tried to get it to.

The panic was flooding his brain, echoing like a continuous scream, so loud that it was starting to make his head throb in pain.

_I don’t want to, I don’t want to!_

He felt his fingers twitch and his tongue moved weakly but it was too little, too slow, and now someone was trying to pull him away and he couldn’t do anything to struggle.

“ _\----- going to be late!”_

He almost thought he had recognized the voice but now it was different; it almost sounded like it belonged to two different persons he knew but couldn’t quite recall their identity, and despite sounding closer and closer the more they merged the less he could understand what they were saying.

“ _Come on, open---”_

“ _\---- up!”_

“ _Please---”_

“ _You’re going to be---”_

“ _And---”_

Andrew felt his eyelids twitch and focused all of his efforts into opening his eyes, the pulsating pain growing stronger, but he’d rather deal with that than with the rising dread that risked to paralyze him again.

_Let me go, fucking let-_

A sharp pain blossomed in his cheek and he gasped, his breath speeding up as the sensation spread through his face and his whole body like an electric current. His eyelids fluttered again as the voice yelled something untelligible and the screaming kept growing in volume, except now that his brain-fog was clearing up a little he realized it was not a scream.

“--- swear to God I’m going to slap the crap out of you till you get up!”

Finally his struggle paid off and he could pry his eyelids open, and as he did the first thing he saw was his son’s face.

“...Val?”, he asked in a weak voice, more of a croak than a whisper. He still did not fully understand where he was but as he slowly came back to his senses he grimaced from the pain caused by the shrill sound that he had mistaken for a scream but which was instead-

“The alarm?”, he croaked, regretting his attempt to turn around as soon as he felt the whole world waver around him and almost fell unconscious again. “What… what time…”

“It’s been ringing for ages, how the fuck did you not hear it?”, Valentine complained, glaring in what was presumably the direction of the alarm clock. “I tried to turn it off but it just snoozed it. I could have slept like twenty minutes more”.

Andrew tried to push himself up but his arms were not responding properly, as if there was a delay between his decision to move them and their reaction. After a few more disastrous attempts his son grew frustrated enough to grasp him by his armpits and help him up until he was sitting with his back against the headboard.

“Ugh… that thing...”, he groaned, wondering if he could get down from the bed without collapsing, but before he even tried the source of the sound was angrily tossed in his lap. “Thanks”. He turned off the switch and the sound was cut off immediately, but not before he could notice something that made him stop and stare until the last digit on the display changed in front of his eyes.

“Oh fuck”, he whispered, without even thinking of the fact that Valentine was in front of him.

“Yeah, that’s why I was trying to wake you”, the boy replied. “You shouldn’t take that sort of shit with alcohol”.

He was glancing to the nighstand, and as he followed his gaze Andrew recognize his bottle of pills. It was upturned and almost half of its content was spilled on the wooden surface. He had no recollection of taking his meds before sleeping, but then again his memories of anything that could have happened after he walked out of the shower were very hazy. He realized in that moment that he was naked under the covers, which thankfully had not slipped off from him in his sleep.

“Oh God, I already missed my bus”, he said, rubbing his palms against his face. His cheek was still sore and his head was still throbbing with what he guessed was the result of the alcohol-meds combo and no water.

_Well, some water._

There was a wet spot around the side where Angela usually slept, and a small bottle of water with its cap badly screwed on. Half of it seemed to have soaked into the covers.

“Just call your boyfriend to pick you up or something”, Valentine suggested with a shrug. “Hey maybe he could drop me off to school on the way”.

“No,” Andrew snapped before he could even finish. “And don’t fu-”. He held his tongue just in time. “Stop calling him that. It’s not funny”.

“I thought you made up with him”, Valentine said, reaching out to touch something on his father’s chest. “Either that or this was one hell of a mosquito”.

Andrew brushed his hand away so fast he almost slapped it, face burning up in anger and shame.

“Mind your own business”, he growled defensively, unable to stop himself before the words slipped past his lips. He had not meant to talk like that, Valentine wasn’t the one in the wrong but he hated that he realized it so quickly and he had almost hoped it had all been some alcohol-induced dream up until then.

Valentile humpfed and then shrugged, walking away from the bed.

“You’re right”, he said, his tone sharp and resentful. “I should have”.

The door that slammed behind him made the pain explode once again, drawing a frustrated groan from Andrew's lips.

_I never get anything right._

 

 

Thirty minutes later he reached the bus station, running all the way there and resting against the pole with the timetables, panting heavily and trying to fight back the nausea that was already coming back. Even before he looked up to check for the next upcoming bus he already knew it had been useless.

_I'm going to be late._

His stomach was roiling from the anxiety, if only he had his car then he would still be able to make it. Maybe not right on the clock but still quickly enough not to get in trouble. But the earliest bus he could take would not be there until the coming hour, there was no way Stevenson would not notice that.

_I can't give him any more reasons to fire me._

With sweaty hands he pulled out his phone from his pocket. He had to call and tell him in advance, or it would be even worse, but he already knew that as soon as he did there would be hell to pay. Still, he had to.

Well, unless-

_No._

He didn't even want to consider it.

_I can't._

He was already worried enough about facing him back in the office. Hell, he was worried about facing Derrick, for that matter. But after that night...

He shivered at the memory. He didn't know what would happen if he was alone with him in his car. He didn't know what to do if Alphonse tried something.

Well, he _did_ know, but he didn't know that he would do it. That was what scared him the most.

_I don't want to._

Except he did... or he _thought_ he did. He wasn't sure.

To tell the truth, he wasn't even sure it hadn't been another illusion. How would he know?

Except if that had been true then what about the bright red mark that Valentine had pointed out and that he later had found in the mirror, along with a few scratches on his back? So, it had to be.

Still, he wasn't fully convinced.

_What if I did that to myself?_

He almost groaned out loud. He couldn't deal with that constant self-doubt, double-guessing everything he perceived in fear it had all been a product of his imagination. It was going to drive him mad.

Well, maybe it was too late to worry about that.

“ _I know you have problems, Andrew.”_

Maybe it always had been.

_Fuck off with that._

He glared down at the phone. He had no choice, he couldn't be late. He needed to keep his job so that he could take care of Angela and Valentine.

He kept repeating all that to himself as he looked for Alphonse's number, ignoring the small bitter voice at the back of his mind that whispered how if that was truly the case then his heart wouldn't be racing so much.

_It sure is fortunate that your only option happens to involve him._

As he listened to the ringing he almost hoped the other would not pick up the call, and as soon as he heard his voice his hand clenched around the phone and he had to hold back from throwing it away.

“Hello? _Hello?_ ”

He wanted to respond but his voice felt like it was stuck in his throat, like one of his pills when he didn't swallow them properly and they left him with that uncomfortable feeling even long after they had melted.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Andrew?”

He held his breath for a second before forcing out a small “yeah”.

“What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

He did, but that was not something he could worry about in that moment. He could only hope the nausea was only from the hangover and he had not caught something from getting drenched and coming back home freezing.

“I missed my bus”, he said, and once again there was a long pause on he other end. He didn't want to have to ask because he didn't know if he could get the words out, he didn't know if he trusted himself to.

“Where are you?”, Alphonse finally asked, making him feel relieved and filling him with dread at the same time.

“Emerson street. It's the one near-”

“The park, yeah. I know that place. I'll be there in a few minutes”.

“Tha-”. He didn't even have the time to finish thanking him before the call ended.

Confused and concerned, he put the phone back in his pocket. He didn't know how to feel about that, he didn't know how he had expected the other to react after... well.

Was he angry with him for running off like that? Did he take it for a rejection? Was _he_ meaning it as a rejection, for that matter, because he still couldn't tell. All he knew was that he hadn't been able to stay there any longer.

“ _I thought you made up with him”._

He remembered Valentine's face all of a sudden, the way it had hardened when he had snapped at him that morning. He felt a rush of guilt at that, one day without Angela and he was already unsufferable. He really was a disaster of a parent without her.

Then again if she had seen the state he was in when he had come back the previous night... no, maybe it was good that she wasn't there, after all.

He was already starting to consider calling in sick and risking Stevenson's wrath when suddenly he saw a familiar black car stop in front of him. It was too late to change his mind, so he forced himself to step forward as the door was opened for him, greeted by the sight of the last person he would have wanted to see.

“Come on, I've got to hurry if we want to make it in time”.

Andrew said nothing as he took place next to him, closing the door before Alphonse could do it and putting the seat-belt on. He didn't want him to get closer, he was already uncomfortable enough as it was. He didn't dare to look at him either, not wanting to see the expression on his face.

Neither of them talked for a while, the only voice in the car coming from the radio, and he would have thought that would be a relief but instead it was even more unnerving that way.

When a familiar tune started to play, however, his hand darted to switch the channel before Alphonse could stop him. He couldn't help but glance nervously at him, but his expression was unreadable.

Finally, as the car stopped in front of a red light Andrew heard him speak.

“You look miserable”.

_Jeez, thanks Al. Tell me something I don't know._

Andrew shrugged. “I'm tired”.

It wasn't entirely a lie. He would have fallen asleep there if he could but he only had bad experiences sleeping in that car with him. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of any of his fucked up dreams, especially after that night.

Alphonse sighed and shook his head.

“I knew we shouldn't have gone out on a workday”

“Yeah”.

Once again neither of them was talking, the silence hanging heavily between them despite the music. Andrew didn't know what possessed him to do so, but he eventually was the first to break it.

“I had a fight with Valentine this morning”.

He looked down at his own hands, clasped on top of his legs. He didn't know why he was telling him that. Why him of all people?

Then again, who else could he talk to, exactly? Angela wasn't there now, so he could think of no one.

_Well there's Derrick but... no, he wouldn't understand._

Alphonse made a small noise that could have been of sympathy, but maybe he was reading too much into it. He didn't know, nor did he dare to look to try and confirm it.

“How come?”.

He didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't entirely sure himself.

“I don't know how to talk to him”, he said, hesitantly. “I never know how to handle him. He's so much different than me. So much different than anyone I'm used to. He's always saying something that pushes me off the edge and before I know it I end up pushing him away”.

Alphonse seemed to take a few moments to mull over his words before responding.

“Must be hard to be a father. Especially in your situation”.

Andrew looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

_What does he mean?_

“What does he look like?”.

The question caught him off guard. He thought back to the picture on his desk, it was quite old by then. Valentine had been, what, maybe five in that picture?

“Why?”.

Alphonse smirked. “Just wondering if he inherited your good looks”.

Andrew felt a slight heat spread through his face. “I'm not in the mood for jokes”, he said, groaning and rolling his eyes.

“It's not a joke”. Alphonse's voice was soft and deep, firm like the hand that he placed on his knee. “I'm being serious”, he insisted, his hand squeezing down slightly as Andrew froze in place, unable to even react in any way. “I've always been serious about you”.

“Alphonse, I-I...”. He didn't even know how to continue. He couldn't find the strength to push that hand off from himself, to tell him he shouldn't talk like that. “It's not fair”.

“Life is unfair. All the time. I thought you knew that much by now”.

Andrew didn't know how to retort. His mind was a mess, emotions mixing up in equal parts to the point where he couldn't tell them apart. Was he afraid of him, or was he drawn to him? Was he angry at him for putting him in that position, or at himself for not being able to reject him? Was he more scared of losing him or his own family? He didn't know, and he hated that he didn't know, and he was afraid of it and wanted to run away yet couldn't move at all.

“How old were you when you became a father?”, Alphonse asked, his words slow and deliberate, too much for it to be a casual question. “Old enough to know what you wanted in life?”.

“That's... none of your business”, he replied, feeling the most unpleasant deja vu as he was reminded of his conversation with Valentine.

“ _It was because she was pregnant, wasn't it?”._

Anger was welling up in him, his head throbbing again as if the other word's were nails scratching on a chalkboard.

_Stop talking as if you know anything about me._

The most disconcerting thing was, it really did feel like he knew. Far more than he should have. Far more than anyone else did.

_Maybe even you._

“You haven't had other children, right? How come? It's not like you couldn't afford them”.

“We didn't want them. Valentine is all the family we needed”, he replied, even if he really wanted to tell him to shut up. But he didn't like the smug note in his voice, the way he talked as if he knew it all. He didn't want to leave him with the satisfaction of thinking he struck a cord.

“Who decided that?”

“We both did. We already had our hands full with him”, he replied, his tone snappier than he had intended. He hated that, he didn't want him to see that his words were affecting him. “Besides she hated the pregnancy”.

“And you?”.

Andrew was starting to lose his patience, and it showed in the way he almost exploded at him.

“'And I' _what?!_ ”

_What the fuck do you even want? Fuck off._

“What did you think of her pregnancy?”

“I?”, he forced himself not to lower his gaze. “I was-”.

_Terrified._

“\- happy”, he replied. “Yes, I was happy”.

“Hm”. Alphonse let go of his thigh and Andrew unclasped his hands, only then realizing how tightly he had been clenching them. They were shaking, and he wanted to hide them but he knew he could hide nothing from his eyes. “Is that so”.

_Oh fuck you._

“I- look, just stop the car. I'm leaving”, he said, seething. He wanted to punch him and at the same time he wanted to cry. Why the hell did he think it was a good idea to come with him in the first place? He should have known better. He should have called a taxi or something. He hadn't even thought of that. He had more than enough money for it, it wouldn't be too bad if it was just that once. Why didn't he think of it earlier?

_You know why._

Alphonse sighed and touched his shoulder. “Andrew-”

“Fucking stop the car, I'm not staying another minute in here!”, he yelled, slapping his hand away and struggling to try and open his seat-belt. His hands were shaking so much he couldn't press on the button and to make things worse he was so angry and nauseous that his vision was blurry.

“Andrew, calm down, I didn't mean to-”

“Fuck you! You very well meant to do something!”, he shouted, holding back from hitting him. Also because he was still driving. “You don't fucking know shit about me! You come here and fucking ruin my life and then act like you know everything about me! Well you don't! You don't know a single thing about me! You don't know what it's like- what the fuck would you understand about having a family?”. He gave up on opening the belt and rubbed his hands against his face. It was wet, wet with tears, and he knew his voice was breaking and he shouldn't say anything more but he couldn't stop himself. “Y-you can't... you can't just do what you want, whatever you- what do you fucking think you know of what I-I...”.

He choked up. The last thing he wanted was for Alphonse to see him cry but he couldn't hold back his sobs, even if the shame made him wish he would die right there. He wanted to be angry, to push him away when the car stopped and he felt his hands wrap around him and he hated himself for it but instead of pulling back he pressed his face against his chest and wept like a child.

“I-I love my son. I ne-never-”, he stammered, his voice broken by hiccups. “I would- I would die if... if anything happened to him. I always...always loved him. I l-love him and- and Angela more than a-anything else. I love my family. I would... I couldn't-”. 

“I know”.

Alphonse's voice had no right to sound so reassuring and warm in that moment, no right to make him feel so relieved.

“D-don't you f-fucking... whate- whatever you think of... of...”, he growled, trying to muster up even an ounce of his previous anger but all he could manage was a sort of pathetic whimpering. “I could never regret- I would never know what to do without him”.

“I'm sure he feels the same”, Alphonse replied, slowly letting go of him and waiting for him to compose himself. “He's worried about you, isn't he?”.

“He saw us”, Andrew said quietly, sounding more defeated than resentful. “And if he told Angela then... I don't think she could forgive me”. 

“Everyone has secrets, Andrew”.

He shook his head. “No... no, that's not- she'd never keep something like this from me. That's the worst thing about it. Even if she could forgive... she could never forgive me for keeping it from her”.

Alphonse let out a small chuckle.

“I wouldn't be so sure”.

He was smiling at him in a way that Andrew didn't like, but he didn't want to argue with him any longer. He didn't have the energy for it.

Still, as the car started again and t hey made their way to the office, he couldn't brush off the lingering feeling that there was so mething the other wasn't telling him.

_He's only saying that sort of shit to provoke me_ . 

He didn't know the slightest thing about him or his family. He couldn't know anything he didn't, much less about Angela-

“ _What does he look like?”._

\- let alone about his son.

“ _He really looks like you. It's kind of eerie.”_

So why was he feeling so uneasy?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions, requests or suggestions
>   * Constructive criticism
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	31. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I simply must go (but baby, it's cold outside)  
> The answer is no (but baby, it's cold outside)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks at survey results so far* Y'all are nasty (says the one who keeps making his fictional son suffer in every chapter...)
> 
> By the way, since someone suggested it I ended up making a server. If any of you wants to join in, it's here: [[X]](https://discord.gg/qmQZfrx). 
> 
> You can chat with people (including my evil betareader), get notifications on when the newer chapter is posted and have access to exclusive content such as, for example, finding out that Andrew doesn't understand memes and has to ask Derrick for help

Andrew didn't know what he'd been expecting going back to the office, but he knew it was going to be awkward. He wasn't sure if he feared the thought of what Derrick might say more than he feared the thought of what Alphonse could do.

He didn't know how much of what already happened between them had been real and how much had been... hallucinations? Fantasies? His hiddenmost fears... or maybe desires he tried to repress?

A part of him couldn't imagine how he could want anything like that to happen, he remembered being scared and feeling trapped and helpless and he wasn't sure he didn't want that.

He didn't want that, but-

_But what? "But" fucking what, exactly?_

He had no answer to that question. Just like he had no answer to whether he could have really imagined everything.

_His taste, his touch, it all felt so familiar._

Could he have imagined all that in so much detail?

_Maybe you just think it's familiar because you're tricking yourself into believing that._

False memories... he knew that was a possibility too. Like how witnesses to crimes could change details of their testimony over time despite not intending to lie. They said the more you try to remember something the more your mind fills in the gaps with what you want to remember or with what you think you remember. Maybe that was the case with him and Alphonse.

_I'm sure there's something... something that doesn't add up. It's like something at the tip of my tongue._

But whatever it was, he still had no clue. Maybe he was just fooling himself.

All these wonderings kept his mind so occupied he barely noticed anything that Alphonse and Derrick did or said at first, which after a while clued him in to the fact that Derrick was more silent than usual. Still, once he started asking him about his work the other man reluctantly started to talk again and after a while things seemed to go unexpectedly well between them. He guessed he was opting to pretend like he hadn't seen anything, and frankly that suited Andrew perfectly well. If no one acknowledged it then maybe they could all collectively pretend it never happened.

_Of course. That's always your solution to everything, isn't it?_

He didn't need something like that to complicate his office life. Not when they already had the whole matter of the drug test results hanging over their head like the Sword of Damocles. Surely their boss had heard back from the lab by then, so why hadn't there been any announcement? Was the lack of announcement on purpose to keep them on edge because he couldn't find anything fishy?

_Or maybe he did, and he's waiting to drop the bomb when we all least expect it._

Maybe that was why Derrick was not harassing him about last night's events. He did seem quite nervous and clumsy. It reminded Andrew of how he used to be before he started to get his shit together.

_I wonder if everything's alright with Susan_ , he thought, frowning immediately after it crossed his mind.

_Why do I care? It's none of my damn business._

Well, it wasn't, but...

No, the last thing he needed was to get involved in someone else's problems when he was knee-deep in his own shit already.

“ _He's not your son”._

He already had a brat of his own to worry about at home. He didn't need another.

  
  


“Do you need a lift home?”.

Andrew almost gasped out loud as a hand was placed on the wall next to him, just when a small ding! announced that the elevator had arrived.

_This fucking-_

He hadn't even heard him walk up to him.

“Do you always try to give people heart attacks?”, he asked, annoyed by his own reaction as much as by Alphonse's trick. He should have been used to it by that point.

“I have been told I'm heart-stoppingly gorgeous before”, Alphonse replied with a smirk, before glancing towards the elevator.

Andrew could hear the doors opening, considered the option for a second, then turned to head for the stairs.

Hallucinations or not, he didn't feel like being in a small enclosed place that could easily, say, malfunction and trap them there exactly while he was alone with him.

_Thanks, but no thanks._

“Weren't you getting on?”, Alphonse noted, to which he shrugged and gave him a small smile.

“I need the exercise”, he lied. “See you tomorrow”.

He forced himself not to start running, especially not before he was sure he wasn't being followed. He wasn't feeling as bad as that morning but he still wasn't sure his stomach could handle a panicked chase to the end of the building. Providing that he didn't get a panic attack first or he didn't trip and break something. Even when he was fairly sure no one else was behind him he only quickened his pace enough to surpass the few others that weren't discouraged by the height of the building.

_Why did he fucking have to come by right then? I hope I can still make it to the bus stop in time._

Once he finally reached the end he wasn't too surprised to see him standing outside with a cigarette in hand.

_Of course. What did I even expect._

“You didn't answer me earlier”, Alphonse told him as soon as he walked out, following along as he marched towards his destination.

“I'm good. Thanks”, he replied without even turning around.

He could hear his footsteps behind him and worried he would actually follow him to his stop, but thankfully after a while he saw him turn in the direction of the parking lot.

However, his relief lasted for a mere few minutes before he heard a car honk and saw the black car slow down next to him, window already open as Alphonse waved at him.

For fuck's sake.

“I said I'm good”, he repeated, annoyed by the other's insistence.

Alphonse didn't seem to care, following all the way to his stop in a way that reminded him of one of those bad romcoms his grandmother used to watch.

“We're going in the same direction anyway. And I don't have to make any stops to pick up other stray passengers”, Alphonse insisted, gesturing towards the empty seat next to him.

“The last thing I need is for Valentine to see you bring me back and make more dumb comments about it”, Andrew replied, ignoring the stares from the couple sitting on the bench. He could hear them chuckling as Alphonse started whistling to the tune of Baby It's Cold Outside, tapping his fingers on his steering wheel.

“Don't you have anything better to do with your time?”, he asked him, clenching his fists as he felt his face flush. He was almost tempted to accept so that he could put at stop to that humiliation, but he had the feeling that was exactly what the other was trying to achieve.

“I would if I had the right company”, was Alphonse's reply, to which Andrew closed his eyes and counted to ten to hold back from throwing something at him.

“I swear to God if you don't stop this-”.

“Alright, alright”, Alphonse said, raising his hands in defeat. “I thought you'd rather get back sooner and see what your son was up to, but I guess not”.

_Shit._

He _would_ get faster by car-

_Don't you fucking dare._

\- but he didn't trust the other not to make unnecessary stops on the way, or worse.

_I'm not falling for this._

“I'm sure he's fine”, he replied, wishing he could really be as confident as he sounded.

Alphonse's smirk grew wider.

“If you say so”.

And with that he drove off, leaving Andrew worried and with the feeling that maybe, after all, he shouldn't have been so quick to reject the offer.

  
  


By the time he got home his worry had only intensified, his mind conjuring endless scenarios in which Valentine could have narrowly avoided getting found out by him, and that could have been avoided if only he had gotten there sooner…

_You’re only obsessing over it because of what Alphonse said,_ he told himself, but knowing that didn’t make it any less distressing. Especially when he couldn’t exclude the chance that any of them could have been happening while he came there.

_Well, maybe not all of them. If the house caught on fire you’d have noticed by now._

_Gee_ , _what a consolation,_ he thought as he walked in.

Once he was inside he tried to keep an eye and an ear out for any unusual sights or noises, but nothing stood out to him. Which only made him even more suspicious.

He was about to head upstairs to check if Valentine was in his room when he noticed the light creeping from under the living-room door.

_What’s he doing there?_

He would have assumed he was playing or watching TV but he couldn’t hear any noises. Maybe he simply forgot to turn the lights off when he left?

He stretched his hand out to the door

“-dy?”

The slightest whisper stopped him in his tracks. He wasn’t even sure he had heard what he thought he heard but he still hesitated to close his hand around the handle.

“ _Andy, are you-”_

He was almost expecting to see-

_See what?_

He tried to focus on it but the memory slipped from his grasp, there for a second and gone in a flash. All he was left with was an uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach as he scanned the room and tried to forget all about it.

_I’m sure… I’m sure it wasn’t important._

The first sign that his son had been there was the crumpled up bag of chips on the short table by the sofa, and some crumbs scattered on the table. The dead giveaway however was the fact that he was still laying on the sofa, soundly asleep with his face against an open book.

His son Valentine, with a book? Now that was an unusual sight. He couldn’t hold back a small grin, wondering what had him so engrossed that he couldn’t help but keep reading.

At least until he was close enough to see that it wasn’t exactly a book, or rather, not one with words in it. Or if there were any then they weren’t exactly the focus of the page not covered by Valentine’s head, unlike the very naked man tied up with ropes that forced him to arch up in a rather obscene display.

“What in HELL!?”, he gasped, grabbing on one side to pull it out from underneath him and letting Valentine’s face fall on the armchair with a surprised “oof!”. As he hastily closed the book to examine its cover he could see in giant gold letters on the top: “The Wonderful World Of Shibari: An Illustrated Introduction”, right above a woman wearing a skin-tight nightgown while tied up in an intricate pose.

“Hi dad”. The boy didn’t even look particularly concerned about his current predicament.

“Don’t ‘hi dad’ me! Where did you even find this?”.

Valentine shrugged, still looking rather sleepy

“Amongst mom’s stuff”, he said, sitting up and stretching out with a loud yawn before a sly grin spread across his face. “Is that what you get up to when I’m not around? That’s kinky.”

Andrew didn’t know how to process that information, much less the comment that followed.

Despite the situation he couldn't help but think back to Angela's promise for a second, a promise she had renewed before leaving for her trip.

_Her reward?,_ he thought, his mind conjuring up images of himself bound in ropes as she loomed over him, and he felt a sudden thrill at the idea.

_For fuck's sake Andrew, this isn't the time to think about that!,_ he reminded himself, glancing back at Valentine who looked like he was regretting his comment.

“I... on second thought I _didn't_ want to know that”.

“That'll teach you not to stick your nose into our sex life”, Andrew said, feeling a smidge of satisfaction about not being the only one uncomfortable with the situation for once. “And not to rummage through our stuff again”,

_Silver linings and all that._

“I didn't- well, it was not exactly well-hidden”, Valentine grumbled, looking anywhere but at his father. “And you stuck your nose into my sex life first”.

“That's different. I'm your father. I have a responsibility to make sure you're not getting yourself in trouble”, Andrew replied, then he decided to use the situation to his advantage. “And I'm not just talking about this”, he said, waving the book in front of him before placing it under his arm to put it away later. He figured Angela would have rather not know the surprise was spoiled but he wasn't about to ask Valentine where he found it.

Valentine looked at him in confusion, or at least pretended to, but Andrew decided he wasn't having any of it. Not that day.

“I know you've been rummaging in my drawer”, he said, and finally it seemed to click in the other's mind.

“So _that's_ why you were harping on about whatever girls the other day”, Valentine said. “Did you notice, or did mom tell you?”.

“She noticed they were missing, of course she told me”.

“She not...”. Valentine interrupted himself and his expression changed. “Yeah, sure. She _noticed_ missing condoms”, he said, one corner of his lips curving up into a lopsided smirk.

“Val, I checked too and-”.

“Yeah, yeah, sure”, the boy interrupted him in a dismissive tone, his expression unchanged.

Andrew really didn't like it. It reminded him of his discussion with Alphonse, somehow.

“Are you trying to tell me you didn't take them?”.

“Nevermind. It's none of my business after all”, Valentine said with a shrug, making Andrew lose his patience.

“What are you trying to get at?”.

“Oh nothing. She told you all you needed to know, I'm sure. Why would I know anything you don't?”.

Andrew really didn't like his tone.

_Ignore him. He's just trying to provoke you_ , he tried to tell himself, but that didn't make him feel better.

“What are you hinting at?”.

“Doesn't matter. You say I should listen to what you say, that's what I'm doing”, Valentine replied, getting up and heading towards the door. “I'm minding my own business”.

“Oh no you f-”. Andrew held himself back at the last moment, taking a deep breath as he followed him and stopped him before he could leave. “If you have something to say then say it”.

“Why don't you ask her?”.

“Valentine, _please_ ”.

Andrew hated how frantic he sounded but he couldn't stop himself. He had to know.

Valentine's smirk grew bigger.

“So you don't trust her as much as you say you do”.

“I do, but-”.

“Then you wouldn't be asking me, now would you?”.

Andrew didn't know how to answer that. He knew he was right, but he didn't want to admit it.

_He's just fucking with me. He has to._

“I didn't rummage through your stuff”, Valentine finally said after a silence that lasted too long for his father's comfort. “She told me where to find them”.

“She... _what?_ ”.

Andrew looked at him in shock.

“She figured it was better for me to know, 'just in case'”, Valentine continued, turning around to face him. “Guess you're not the one who keeps things to yourself, huh?”.

Andrew let go of him as if he had scalded himself.

“You're lying”, he said, wishing he could sound more convinced.

“If that's what you want to believe”.

He did, but he could not.

_Why would she not tell me?_

“Oh come on. Like you have any right to make that face”, Valentine said. “She's not the one fucking around behind your back”.

Andrew almost wanted to slap him, but he knew it was only because he was right. He forced himself not to look away even if he knew his expression would betray his shame.

“Now if you excuse me I'm going to sleep. You probably should put that back in her desk”, Valentine continued, gesturing towards the book. “Third drawer from the top”.

Andrew watched him turn around and walk away, holding back from running after him.

Just when he saw him get to the stairs however, Valentine stopped and looked back.

“By the way, do you know a woman named Vivian?”.

Andrew stared up at him in horror.

_How does he-_

“Can't remember”, he replied, forcing himself to sound as indifferent as possible. “Why?”.

“She called and asked if you were around. I told her you were at work”, Valentine replied. “She asked me a bunch of stuff about you and mom. And about me”.

Andrew didn't know how to respond, he felt like he had just been punched in the stomach.

_How did she find our number? Does she know where we live? Does he know?_

“She sounded quite unhappy. You probably should call her”.

“No”. Andrew replied before he could even think about it, his mind rejecting the notion altogether. “She- I don't know what she thinks she wants from me, but... look, if she calls again, just hang up”.

Valentine looked like he wanted to retort, but he was not going to budge.

_She has no business with us. Not now. Not ever._

“Look, I don't know what that woman told you, but she doesn't get to suddenly decide she cares about what I'm doing. Not after all this time”, he said, his tone stern and bitter.

_Where were you when he decided I was not family anymore?_

A part of him felt guilty about his decision but he angrily silenced it. Why should he feel guilty when she hadn't even tried to do anything when Charles decided they were through with him?

“ _You walk out of that door now, you better never come back, or I'll show you”._

She didn't try to stop him nor her husband. She never tried to reach out to them before. To know how he was doing, or how Valentine was doing. She clearly took a side back then, so why would she change her mind?

_It's too late._

He watched as Valentine walked up the stairs, his stomach tied into knots. He didn't know what to tell him if he asked, so he was glad he didn't, but he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back his curiosity. He could only hope he would ask Angela, but knowing Valentine he wouldn't put it past him to call back while he wasn't at home and try to find out what he wasn't telling him.

_There's nothing to tell. Nothing he needs to know about._

His hands shook as he pushed the buttons on the house phone, revealing the most recent caller. Despite everything he still hesitated, his finger hovering over the delete button for a few moments.

“ _You're dead to me”_.

“Well, dead men tell no tales, Charles”, he whispered, pressing down and letting out a shaky breath as the number disappeared.

He had to protect his family. His real one.

Not the one who abandoned him when he would have needed them the most.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	32. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew has a traumatic work day. Who would have thought.
> 
> ~~I'm too sick to write a clever summary~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully that won't be the case but I must warn the next chapter might come out late. I have caught an extremely annoying illness that left me with little focus and I will have a lot of stuff to catch up to next week both at work and at home - that's if I recover before then, which judging from today might not be the case. I still have to begin writing it too, so it's not looking too good...
> 
> As annoying as it is, I'd really rather skip a week than rush to get it done and give you something half-assed. Especially since, if I planned things right, the next three chapters will be the final ones of this portion. Can't really screw up those!
> 
> For those who left comments, I also apologize for not having gotten back to your comments until today. I meant to do it sooner but ended up postponing it.

Andrew walked without making a sound, the night covering everything around him in its dark mantle, yet he could see perfectly well.

He was heading towards a building, which turned out to be an old church once he was close enough to get to its door. If he were to reach out he could have touched it, but he hesitated. Somehow he felt both attracted and repulsed by it at the same time.

“Andy?”

A cold shiver ran down his spine.

_Inside?_

Stretching out his hand, his fingers barely touched the handle.

“Come”.

He shivered again, but his hand closed around it.

“You're leaving, aren't you?”.

He glanced back at Valentine, who was standing close to a wall. They were in a kitchen, brightly lit and so small there was barely enough space for the two of them.

“I'm not-”

“You're leaving”, Valentine repeated, his tone stern and resentful.

Andrew felt guilty and didn't respond, looking back to the door. He could still hear a voice behind it but it was hard to tell what it was saying. He knew that it was angry, and that scared him.

“I don't want to go”, he said, turning back to look at Valentine, except now Alphonse was standing in his place and looking down at him with an amused smirk.

“Then don't”.

Andrew looked around but Valentine was nowhere to be seen, which made him feel even worse.

Alphonse moved towards him, cornering him against the door. Andrew tried to reach for the handle again but he was stopped by the other.

“You're not leaving until I get what's mine”, Alphonse told him, moving in closer until Andrew was pressed against the wooden surface.

“I don't want to go”, Andrew whispered, glancing back towards the door as the voice behind it grew louder and angrier.

“Then don't”, Alphonse insisted, lifting his hand to grasp on his face and force him to look at him again. “You don't want to know what's out there”.

Andrew didn't know what to reply. He was feeling cold, and despite his fear of what awaited him behind the door he was even more afraid of what could happen if he didn't leave soon.

"You'll follow me there too, won't you?", he whispered.

Alphonse smiled again.

“Until I get what I came for", he said, leaning in close enough to brush his lips against Andrew's.

He closed his eyes, and even as he was kissed he felt the cold gnawing at him, drawing his attention away from the other's touch.

  
  


When he opened his eyes he was shivering. The first thing he saw was the sky. It was dark, but the first lights of dawn were filtering through the clouds.

The ground underneath him was damp and soft. He closed his hands and grasped on it, fingers closing around a fistful of grass.

_Where the fuck_

He pushed himself up in a sitting position, curling up on himself as soon as he realized he was wearing nothing but his underwear. Looking around in confusion, it took him a few moments to realize where he was. He was sitting in the middle of the park, which thankfully seemed to be deserted at the moment.

_How did I..._

He froze up.

_Oh no._

He'd woken up in weird places around the house before but he'd never straight up walked out of it in his sleep before.

_Fuck, this is bad, this is real bad!_

He got up with some difficulty. His body felt stiff and his muscles threatened to cramp up for a few seconds. Taking a few careful steps, he thankfully managed to hobble around without incidents and proceeded to get back home as fast as his legs allowed.

His disconcert only increased once he saw the door was left open. It was not a bad neighbourhood but he still knew better than to leave it open for anyone to waltz in and do God-knows-what while he wasn't there. He rushed inside, his muscles finally allowing him to run around and try to determine if anyone had been in there during his late night walk.

_Everything seems fine... I think. Fuck, why didn't I wake up?_

Just then, a horrible thought made him freeze in place.

_What about Valentine?_

He rushed upstairs, terrified at the thought that someone might have gotten in and hurt his son in some way. He could imagine him waking up to a burglar and trying to take on him instead of hiding, Valentine might not have been stupid but he was reckless and prone to act before thinking.

_Oh God if anything happened to him..._

He got to his door and opened it, walking towards his bed and freezing again.

_\- Thunk! -_

He barely had the time to register the fact that it was empty before something hit his head, hard, causing him to fall on his knees.

He hissed in pain and pressed his hand against the side where the pain had blossomed, hearing something fall on the floor and the rushed footsteps of his son as he crouched down and gasped.

"Fuck! I thought you were a thief!".

Andrew groaned as his hand was moved away, opening his eyes again and meeting Valentine's. There was a very uncharacteristic apologetic expression on his face, and once again a look of worry that he really didn't like.

"I should have thought... damn, I forgot you sleepwalk", the boy grumbled, rummaging through his hair to examine the injury. He was pulling on its roots and Andrew gritted his teeth to keep himself from making sounds, letting him have a look so that he could hopefully see it was fine. Well, it was still hurting so maybe fine was not the right word, but at least it didn't split his head open. Even if it certainly had felt like it for a moment.

_He really went for it. Fuck._

Despite the instinctive rush of annoyance he found that he was quite proud of him. He hadn't rushed out head-first to confront the supposed attacker, and he definitely would have incapacitated him before he could be seen.

"You did well. I could have been a burglar", he said, pushing himself up again and trying to ignore the pulsating headache that was already creeping up on him. Glancing around to try and find the source of his suffering, he noticed a baseball bat on the floor. "Where were you even keeping that?"

"Under the bed", Valentine replied, still looking rather concerned. "Did you shower with your underwear on or something?".

Andrew suddenly remembered his little trip and the fact that he was still pretty much naked. Repressing the urge to cover himself with the messy bedsheets on Valentine's bed, he looked away and tried to think of some excuse. It would have been much easier if his head wasn't hurting and he wasn't still tired from the interrupted sleep.

"I...don't know. Yeah. Probably".

"You're not a good liar, dad".

He sighed.Of course.

_Why did I even try?_

"Also, we don't have plants in the shower", Valentine continued, picking a small leaf from his arm. "Did you walk _outside_ like this?".

"It's not like I planned to", Andrew said in a defeated tone. It would have been of no use to deny it, he was in no condition to fool him.

"Well, it surely would attract _someone's_ attention", Valentine noted with a small grin, eyeing him up and down.

_Ugh, not this again._

Andrew groaned, retreating towards the door both because he didn't want to face the topic and because he was feeling even more self-conscious and exposed. However, before he could leave the door was slammed shut in front of him, with Valentine pressing his arm against it as if to make sure he couldn't open it.

"Then again, you did sneak into my room like this", the boy said in a half-joking and half-accusatory tone. "Maybe it's a good thing I whacked you".

"I thought someone might have gotten in", Andrew replied, rolling his eyes and trying to push him away from the door, only to be pushed against it with unexpected force. "Oof!"

"And that had you worried, or _envious?_ ", Valentine hissed, grasping on his face when he tried to glance around as if in search of an escape.

"What are you going on about?", he asked, confused and concerned. He didn't know what Valentine was playing at but he knew that he didn't like it.

"Well, if you're so desperate for a good dicking to get out in the middle of the night for it, you must be really thirsty", Valentine insisted, and despite the amused tone of his voice there was a dangerous undertone to it.

"I didn't- _AH!"_

Much to Andrew's horror, he felt a hand grasp him from above his boxers.

"I mean, you're already screwing your family over for some guy you got a crush on", Valentine hissed against his ear, squeezing hard enough to hurt him. "So maybe it's just the natural next step".

No matter how hard Andrew tried to push him off, his grasp only tightened up, making him writhe and whine in pain against him. He probably would have collapsed if he wasn't pressed between the door and the other's body. When the boy finally let go of him and stepped back he fell down on his knees, one hand against his sore testicles. There were a million thoughts going in his mind at once but it all blended together into a sort of incoherent screaming that never left his lips, his body shaking in pain as he tried to recover enough to get up and leave as fast as he could.

“You fucking- are you out of your mind!?”, he groaned weakly. A part of him wanted to retaliate, but he quickly snuffed that thought. He couldn't believe what just happened and those words... he was disgusted by the implications but he knew that, in a way, Valentine was right. He _was_ screwing over his family. He was risking to lose it all and everything because of-

_A crush._

-the fact that he couldn't bear the thought of seeing Alphonse walk out of his life.

“I'm not the one taking pills here, now am I?”, Valentine coldly replied, looking down at him with an expression that reminded him of-

“ _I wouldn't be so sure”._

-something unpleasant.

Andrew felt a loud buzz in his ears as he forced himself to get up, legs shaky as he fought back against two contrasting urges: the one that told him him to run out of there as fast as he could, and the one that made him want to lunge at his own son and strangle him.

“What the hell do you want from me?”, he asked him, unsure if his voice was trembling from the anger or the fear.

“What is it about him that you can't get from me or mom?”, Valentine retorted, the last traces of his previous amusement now completely gone. “You always said you only can trust your family, was that also a lie?”

“I don't trust him”

“But you want him.”

Andrew gritted his teeth. He wanted to deny it, but he knew it would be no use. The way Valentine was staring at him... it was as if he could look right through him.

“You want him enough to keep secrets from mom. You want him enough to chase after him”, Valentine continued, the anger in his tone slowly subsiding. “He'll take you away from us”.

“No!”, Andrew shouted, balling up his hands into fists. “No he won't!”.

Valentine's lips curved up into an humourless smile.

“If you were going to leave anyway you shouldn't have stayed in the first place”.

Those words hit him like a physical blow, to the point where he almost took a step back but instead he forced himself to walk towards his son.

“I'm not leaving, I'm not-”, he whispered, pulling him closer even as the other tried to push him off, holding him tightly as he realized the boy was trembling. “I could never leave my family”.

“Shut up”. Valentine struggled again and pulled himself free, his voice strained as if he was trying to hold back from crying. “You're so fucking full of shit.”

“I promise-”

“Get out!”.

Valentine turned around and stiffened, and Andrew didn't know if he wanted to yell at him and shake him or to try to hug him again, but he only stood there and sighed.

“Valentine, I swear, I won't-”

“I said _GET OUT!_ ”.

Andrew opened his mouth again but in the end he didn't know what else to say to him. He felt awful and he knew Valentine was hurting, but no matter how much he wished he could find a way to explain, it all felt useless.

As he left the room and went on to prepare himself for work, he felt like a complete failure as a father. But the worst thing was, he knew what he should have done and it was exactly the last thing he wanted to.

_I should have let him go. I should have told him to get lost._

He knew he could still do it. He could follow him outside during his break and tell him to fuck off from his life forever, and make sure he'd know he meant it.

But therein lay the problem: he couldn't. He couldn't because, even in that moment, the thought of being abandoned by him filled him with dread.

Moreover, deep down he knew that even if he did, even if he somehow managed to convince both Alphonse and himself that it was what he really wanted, he could not pretend forever. He would be miserable without him. He would never be able to forget him, and even worse, he might even come to resent Angela and Valentine for his own misery.

_It would destroy us. And she would know... she would find out, and then... then I will lose her too._

He couldn't do that. It would only make everything worse. But that meant that he was stuck.

_If only I had told her..._

But what would that have accomplished? Even if she knew, what did he expect her to do? He would have been lucky if she didn't pack her things and leave.

_I can't lose my family... but I can't lose him either._

If only he could have found a way to get closer to him without letting things get out of hand... but that wasn't what Alphonse wanted. He had already made it clear that he wouldn't settle for friendship.

_So what am I supposed to do? Give in to what we- what he wants? I can't do that!_

But if it was the only way to keep him close, what choice did he have?

_It's so fucking unfair._

  
  


By the time Andrew arrived in the office, his mood had only worsened.

“Geez man, I've never seen you look so down before”, Derrick asked him within their first hour of work, noticing the gloomy aura that seemed to radiate from him. “Is Angie still away?”

“Yeah.”

“When is she coming back?”,

“Next week”.

Andrew wished time would move faster. It had only been a few days and he already was screwing up things with Valentine rather than getting closer to him. Not to mention he missed her horribly.

“Have you heard from her?”.

“Yeah”.

_And everytime I had to keep myself from asking her to come back earlier._

He didn't want her to know that he was so weak he couldn't handle a few days of distance. She was finally getting somewhere with her work, and he knew she would give it all up if she thought he couldn't hold himself together when she was away. She had given up so much for him, he didn't want to do that to her. It wasn't fair.

_I'm already hurting her enough._

“How are things with Valentine?”, Alphonse inquired, and Andrew couldn't help but cringe.

“We had a fight again today”, he admitted.

“About what?”.

Andrew quickly looked away.

“Oh, nothing that- something in particular. I mean, _nothing_ in particular”. He forced himself to smile, shoulders rising in a quick shrug. “You know, just those stupid arguments that start out of nothing and then you don't even know how you ended up there.”

He couldn't possibly tell him that it had been about him. Especially not when Derrick was there to listen.

“Oh, I hate those! Susan drives me up the wall like that sometimes”, the other jumped in with a sympathetic grimace. “Maybe he's also cranky because his mother's away”.

“Maybe”.

“Didn't you say his birthday is coming up soon?”, Alphonse noted.

“Oh, right! That ought to cheer him up for sure!”, Derrick said, then he furrowed his eyebrows for a few moments before giving Andrew an embarrassed look. “Er, how old is he again?”

“He's turning seventeen”. Andrew was sure he had told him before but he might have been wrong. Then again Derrick was starting to get quite forgetful again. Maybe it had something to do with the aforementioned arguments.

“What is he like now? Must have grown quite a bit since then”.

Alphonse pointed to the photo on his desk, which showed a much smaller Valentine. Even then, the resemblance with his father was quite striking. Andrew couldn't help but think about how he'd been a lot less hard to handle back then. Not that it had ever been easy but, well, it certainly was easier at least.

“I should have a picture on my phone... oh, wait, I think I have one in my wallet too”.

He took it out of his pocket and pulled out a small pile of cards which included his own business card, a few ones from the restaurants he went to with Angela, a few used bus tickets and, finally, the picture he was looking for. Valentine had to take it for school at the beginning of the year, so he still looked pretty much the same except his hair was slightly longer. He had the exact same hair type and colour as his father but he kept it shorter, with the sides shaved so that the top stood out like a sort of curly crown.

“Holy shit, you could be twins!”, Derrick gasped, leaning in closer to inspect it. “Ah, your eyes are lighter though. I think.”. He glanced up to look at them before nodding to himself. “Yup they've got sort of a greenish tinge. Kind of. I think he's paler than you too. But otherwise damn, I would have thought it was you”.

“Yeah, I get that a lot”, Andrew replied, smiling a bit. In a way he was proud of it, but sometimes he thought it would have been better if he took after his mother. He couldn't help but worry if it could make things difficult for him, at school and then later at work. He was light enough that he could have passed for white, if only it hadn't been for his resemblance.

“I can imagine”, Alphonse said, then his attention seemed to be attracted by something else in the pile. Before Andrew even noticed he had picked up another photo, which was folded up to fit in the same slot. Once he opened it, a dark-skinned girl with a defiant expression stared back at him. “Who's her?”.

“Ah that's- that's my mother”.

It was the only picture of her he had managed to bring with him. One of the few ones he had ever seen in his grandparents' house, for that matter. Andrew had almost forgot it was there.

“She's quite cute. How old was she there?”. Derrick asked, picking it up when Alphonse left it on the table.

“I think thirteen”. He wasn't entirely sure, as he hadn't really asked his grandparents about it.

“You never talked about her. What is she like?”

Andrew's smile faltered.

“Ah, she... well I'm sure she's fine”.

_I wouldn't know._

From what he knew about her he suspected she probably had to be dead by then. Dead, or _-_

“What do you mean?”, Derrick insisted, and Andrew cursed himself for not coming up with some lie to put the topic to rest.

“Oh nothing I just... I don't really keep in touch”, he replied with a small laugh, hoping it would not sound too nervous. “She's not the talkative type”.

_More like the type that leaves you with her parents and then never comes back_.

Not like he could blame her from running off from them, especially Charles, but the fact that she never came back for him nor even tried to ever get in touch with him again was something he never quite forgave. Even if the few memories he had of her were not unpleasant, that only made it hurt worse. If she had been awful to him then maybe he wouldn't have been so upset when she decided she was fed up with him.

“ _If you were going to leave anyway you shouldn't have stayed in the first place”._

Valentine's words echoed into his mind and he felt a surge of guilt.

He never wanted him to feel unwanted. He never wanted him to feel the same way he felt. In his mind that was the worst thing he could possibly have done to him.

He was so absorbed in that thought he didn't notice Derrick was passing him the picture, and once he did he didn't manage to catch it before it fell.

"Ops, sorry".

"Nevermind".

He crouched under his desk to pick it up, but before he could do it someone else snatched it first.

"Wasting time again?", Stevenson barked.

Andrew got up so quickly he hit his head against the desk, gritting his teeth to hold back a curse.

_Fuck! Not again!_

He could only be glad he hadn't hit the same spot, still his eyes were watering from the pain. Even so, he could tell that his boss was glaring at him.

"Since you've got time to waste I'm expecting those files on my desk by tomorrow".

"But we still need to-"

Derrick didn't even finish his sentence, scooting back to his desk under Stevenson's cold stare.

"What are you even up to?", the man then asked to Andrew, glancing down at the picture he was still holding.

And then, his expression hardened.

"In my office. Now."

Andrew held back a sigh. If he had to finish his work by the next day then the last thing he needed was to be stuck in the other's office for hell knew how long, but that was probably the entire point. He got up to follow him and Stevenson snorted loudly.

"Not you!", he growled, turning towards Alphonse. _"You"_.

Andrew turned to look at him in confusion. The other man didn't seem to be perturbed by the request, in fact he was smiling widely.

_What the hell?_

Not a single word was spoken as Alphonse got up and followed the man to his office. Andrew could still hear Derrick typing up as fast as he could even as the other two left, staring at the door behind them while he tried to make sense of what just happened.

_What did Alphonse even have to do with it?_

Well, it was useless to try to understand how Stevenson reasoned sometimes. Maybe he already came there to yell at Alphonse about something and seeing him idling with them instead of working made him snap. However that seemed odd to him. His boss never seemed to have any particular problem with the other man, not like he was particularly nice to him but usually he would target Derrick or Andrew when he was irked about something.

Then again, Derrick had said Alphonse had been distracted recently. Maybe Stevenson had noticed that too. Still, he would he expected him to take it out on him since he was his senior and he rarely wasted an occasion to blame him for the team's wrongdoings.

_Oh well. Sucks for you, Al._

As he picked up his things to put them back in his wallet, he suddenly realized that his mother's picture was missing.

_Fuck, that bastard took it with him._

He knew the last thing he should have done was to go bother him while he was already that pissed, but he couldn't focus on his work knowing that his photo probably ended up in his boss's trashcan, hopefully still in one piece. He tried to, but it was no use, so eventually he sighed and got up.

"Where are you going?", Derrick asked him, alarmed.

"I'm just getting something back".

"What? Oh, no, are you crazy?".

"I'm... I know, but I need it back".

"Dude, seriously, you're better off leaving it there”.

Derrick grasped on his arm to hold him back, and he looked at him in panic.

"I can't! It's the only-”. He hesistated. “I don't... I don't have other pictures of her".

Derrick looked like he was about to insist but then he sighed too, slowly relaxing his grip.

"He's going to kill you. At least wait until Al gets back".

"He'll still be pissed anyway".

Derrick shook his head and went back to his work. Andrew could tell he was worried, but what could he do?

_It's not like I want to be yelled at. But I can't leave it there._

Despite his insistence, his legs were shaking as he made his way to the door. He didn't know what Stevenson would say but certainly it would be unpleasant. No doubt would find some way to make him regret it.

He slowly forced himself to grasp on the handle, leaning in closer to try and listen to what was going on in there. There was a glass on the door but it was opaque so he could only distinguish the two figures.

Even so, he quickly realized something was wrong. He couldn't make out any word but he could hear yelling, and both men were standing up. The taller figure didn't move as the other lunged at him and pushed him against the wall, and before he even realized what he was doing Andrew had opened the door to peek inside.

"-this some fucking game for you?!".

As he thought, Stevenson had slammed Alphonse against the wall, looking more furious than Andrew had ever seen him. His face was bright red and the veins in his arms were bulging as he grasped on Alphonse's shirt.

Weirdly enough, the other man didn't seem to be distressed. In fact, he was smirking.

"For someone as successful as you are, you're not a very good businessman", he joked, making Andrew's fear spike up.

_Does he have a death wish or something?!_

He didn't dare to move a muscle, in fact he wasn't even breathing in fear of getting caught. He knew he should have gone back to his desk but he couldn't, he had to do _something,_ but he was sure if he tried to get in between them he might seriously get his face punched in.

Surprisingly enough, Stevenson hadn't already hit Alphonse for his jab. Still, he looked like he could snap at any second, so Andrew was sure it was only a matter of time.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck..._

"I'm the one giving orders here! You should have told me-"

"You never asked".

_-WHACK!-_

The punch hit the wall behind Alphonse, at a mere inch from his face, but the man didn't even flinch. Instead he glanced aside and met Andrew's terrified gaze for a second, his smile only growing wider.

"My deal is not up for renegotiations, if that's what you are expecting".

"I don't- you! You fucking little..."

Stevenson raised his fist again, a scream rising up Andrew's throat as he tried to force himself to move - whether to rush forward or to run away, he was not sure.

"Then we don't have anything left to discuss". Alphonse said, sounding like he was making idle conversation rather than getting threatened by a man almost twice his size. At least in bulk.

Then, he turned to his side and smiled. "Hi Andrew, sorry for the wait. I'll be there in a moment".

Stevenson jumped up on the spot and spun around, face turning from red to chalk white in seconds.

" _You?_ What the fuck are you doing here?".

Andrew couldn't even form coherent words in his head, let alone trying to say something sensible.

"I... I just..."

"Well then, I don't think there's any reason for either of us to bother you anymore, sir. We have a lot to get done after all", Alphonse interrupted him, striding up to him and grasping on his arm to push him back outside. "Have a nice day!".

_-BANG!-_

He closed the door behind them right before something hit it from the inside.

"Sorry you had to see that. The old man gets cranky when things don't go his way", he whispered as he practically dragged a shaking Andrew along with him.

Andrew was still in a state of shock, so he just let himself be pulled along while barely registering where they were even going. One moment they were in their boss's office, the next they were outside on the emergency staircase and Alphonse was pushing one of his cigarettes against his lips and lighting it up.

He didn't even dare to protest, taking a long drag before grasping it with a shaky hand, almost burning his fingers in the process.

"T-t-the fuck...", he stammered, but Alphonse pressed a finger against his lips before he could even try to come up with the rest of his sentence.

"Shh, it's ok. Deep breaths, Andrew".

Andrew tried to follow his advice, taking a few minutes and a few more drags of his cigarette before talking again. The familiar smell was soothing in a way, but it didn't change the fact that he was still feeling like he was on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

"He could- fuck he could ha- could have killed you!".

He didn't mean it figuratively. The way Stevenson had looked, he wouldn't have doubted that he'd be fully capable of smashing his head open. And the fucking idiot almost _laughed_ at him. He laughed! At him! He must have been insane.

The fact that Alphonse actually started laughing out loud at his words only confirmed his theory.

"Oh you... you don't have to worry”, he said once he had composed himself. “He knows better than to take his chances against me", he concluded with a small shrug.

"What the... he almost punched your face in!", Andrew reminded him, looking at him as if he was not believing his ears.

_He... he really has to be insane. Either that or I have finally snapped for good._

Alphonse's smirk became more sinister at those words.

"Oh, he could try. But trust me, I could do much worse".

There was something in his eyes as he said that, something that gave Andrew no doubt that he meant it.

In fact, in that moment he had no trouble believing him.

_What the fuck was going on in there?_

"Don't think about it too much. He just made a bad investment, that's all. Happens all the time".

He took the cigarette out of Andrew's mouth, taking a long drag from it as he looked away.

"The real question is, what were _you_ doing in there".

Andrew cursed inwardly. He had completely forgot, and now there was no way to get back in there. Not unless he had a death wish too.

"He... he took the photo".

"Oh, this thing?".

Alphonse twirled his cigarette around his fingers, and suddenly the missing picture was in his hand. Just like that.

"How- how did you...?".

Alphonse winked at him and moved in closer, slipping the photo in his breast pocket.

"I'm good with my hands", he said, fingers trailing up on his chest and along his neck in a slow caress, making him shiver.

Andrew looked away. "Y-yeah, I'm sure".

He didn't want to think too hard about it, his mind already running back to the memory of the other evening. It was the last thing he wanted to focus on at the moment, he already had enough to trouble him as it was.

"You really worry too much, and always about the wrong things", Alphonse said, his hand moving up to caress his face.

Andrew almost wanted to lean into the touch, but the memory of his argument with Valentine was still fresh in his mind.

"We should get inside. We have work to do".

Alphonse leaned in closer, pressing him against the rail. Suddenly Andrew remembered how high up they were and grasped on his shoulders. For a moment he feared the other wanted to push him off, especially when he saw the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"You were so worried about me. It's kind of endearing", Alphonse said, wrapping his arms around him into a crushing embrace. "You really are clueless."

"Al- Alphonse, I c-can't...", Andrew gasped, feeling as if the other was trying to squeeze the air out of him. "I c-can't breathe".

Just then, he was picked up and lifted _above the rail_.

_No, no! What are you-_

"Wai- wait! WAIT!"

Andrew grasped on him like his life depended on it, terrified beyond belief. He was hanging above certain death and Alphonse was holding him up as if he weighed nothing, the sheer unbalance should have been enough to make them both fall down but somehow the bastard wasn't even breaking a sweat.

"See, you really shouldn't be worried _for_ me", Alphonse told him with a cruel laugh, still holding him up for what seemed like an eternity before pulling him back on the stairs and letting him fall down gracelessly, but back into safety.

Andrew quickly crawled back towards the door like a stunned insect. His legs felt like jelly but he forced himself to get up and run back inside as fast as he could, his heart in his throat and his mind reeling from the fear.

He couldn't even begin to process all that happened in the span of those minutes, but one thing was certain.

There was something horribly wrong with Alphonse.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions, requests or suggestions
>   * Constructive criticism
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> I usually reply to all comments (sooner or later)! If you do not wish to have your comment replied to for any reason, please add “hush” somewhere before or after your comment and I will silently appreciate it instead ^^


	33. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I told you there would be sex scenes again. ~~I never said you would like them.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been ridiculously long since my last update and I'm really sorry, I recovered quite soon but as expected work and other things piled up and I struggled to catch up with them more than expected. 
> 
> Moreover this chapter turned out longer than expected and there was one scene in particular I struggled to write, and another that I wrote only to fully delete and substitute with another one. It was quite a struggle so I finished it today and was lucky enough to have my betareader available quickly enough to edit it on the same day. I normally prefer to wait a bit more before editing but I didn't want to let you wait since it's already been so long.
> 
> Hopefully now I will be back on track with the updates - however I might have to slow down the schedule in December because my working hours will change (and get a bit longer) so I am not sure of how that will effect my writing time yet. It might be that I switch to bi-weekly updates if I find I'm struggling to get the chapters out in time.
> 
> One last thing before I leave you to the chapter: the poll for the spin-off one shot is still open (so far the porn is winning. How surprising :P), so if you still haven't voted, go ahead and do it!^^

 

If so far Andrew had managed to start feeling at ease again around Alphonse, now it almost felt like he was back to square one.

Not that he went back to ignoring him, but he felt constantly on edge. As if something was just about to go wrong at any second.

As it was, he almost jumped out of his chair when Alphonse touched his shoulder, approaching him from the side while he was focusing on rechecking a wrong value in his worksheet.

"You alright?", Derrick asked, while Alphonse just snickered and walked back to his desk. "You need to cut that out dude, it's not funny".

Derrick threw him an annoyed glance, while Andrew wished he could have buried himself in a hole underground and disappeared.

"Jesus man, you're not gonna be like this everytime she goes somewhere are you?".

"No, I... I'm just tired". He sighed. "I haven't made up with Valentine yet, it's been driving me crazy. Plus I still don't know what to get him for his birthday... not like I can ask him, especially if he doesn't want to speak with me".

He wasn't exactly lying, it was more like a half-truth. In the sense that it wasn't the only thing that worried him, far from it, nor the reason why he was so jumpy at work.

_And she called again..._

This time he had been at home to pick it up, thinking it would be Angela, but instead-

_"Andy? Andy is that you? I-"_

He had closed the call before she could finish, slamming the receiver down so hard that it fell to the side and dangled from its cord, staring down at it as if it was a poisonous snake while shaking from head to toe.

It used to be that, no matter how bad it was at the office, he was always relieved to get back home and couldn't wait for it, sometimes even counting down the minutes until he could finally leave. But now, well, he wasn't even sure of whether he dreaded that even more. It wasn't like he had anything better waiting for him there, as much as he hated to think like that.

_If only Angela was back..._

Every day he missed her more, so much that he had almost felt relieved when she had sent a message to tell him she couldn't call him. At that point, he didn't trust himself not to beg her to come back home.

Sitting in his chair, he tried to act normal around both Alphonse and Derrick, while he made sure not to leave the desk if Alphonse left for a smoke or to go the the bathroom. Not until he saw him come back, at least.

He still felt faint whenever he thought of what happened the previous day on the staircase. He tried to tell himself he had just imagined it, that maybe he also imagined the discussion in Stevenson's office, but that still didn't change the fact that he was terrified of what could happen if he lowered his guard.

At some point, while he was coming out of one of the bathroom cubicles, he found Derrick standing next to the sink despite the fact that the other door was open.

“Did you get that photo back?”.

Andrew was confused at first, until the memory of their conversation and all that followed flashed back to him.

“Ah, yes! Yes I, I have it now”.

Derrick made a small noise of relief, to which Andrew forced himself to smile as he washed his hands, a tense awkward silence filling the air.

“Your mother looked very pretty”.

“Uh, yeah. I guess”. He looked down, trying to wash himself at an acceptable speed to not show how uncomfortable he was. The cold water numbed down his fingers while he scrubbed, the skin on his hands dry and reddened.

“Do you have any memories with her?”.

_Why do you care?_

He held back from asking him just that, forcing himself to shrug and act casual.

“Yeah. Sorta.”

Derrick made a small humming noise, looking away.

“Wonder if that's worse”, he said, so softly that Andrew wasn't sure if he was still talking to him or not. Either way, he dried up his hands and left the room before the conversation could continue.

  
  


The following days went on pretty much the same, with him doing his best to catch up on the work they had to leave behind to obey their boss's whims. Which turned out to have been all for nothing anyway since Stevenson didn't even come to the office to check on their results.

“Fucking typical”, Derrick groaned, rubbing one side of his face as he scrolled through a list of items.

“You got the wrong one open”, Alphonse noted from behind him, making him clench his jaw and close his eyes before letting out a sharp exhale.

“I told you to stop fucking doing that”, he growled without even turning around. “And what do you mean, the wrong one?”

“That's from last month”.

Derrick narrowed his eyes and glanced at him, then at his screen. It took him a few moments, then he opened them wide before pressing both hands against his face.

“ _NNNGH!_ Fuck!”.

“Is anything wrong?”, Alphonse asked him, placing one hand on his shoulder.

“I've wasted like thirty minutes on this”, Derrick whined, looking at the computer screen as if it had betrayed him.

“That's not what I meant”, Alphonse insisted, his hand moving along his shoulder in a sort of slow caress as he leaned in closer.

_Don't you fucking touch him!_

Andrew was taken aback by the sudden surge of anger that the gesture provoked in him. For a moment he had been dangerously close to get up and slap that hand off of him.

It would have been a lie to say there was no jealousy behind it, but it wasn't just that. He felt like he had to warn Derrick... but how? Would he even believe him?

_Should_ he even believe him?

“Is anything wrong with you, Derry?”.

The younger man gulped, glancing at Andrew first and then at Alphonse.

“I'm... it's... it's just, my head is such a mess again”, he whispered, sounding confused and mortified. “I've been doing so well until-”.

He gasped, looking like he only then realized something. Andrew couldn't help but wonder what was up with that.

Then again, given what happened last time he tried to meddle into someone else's business, maybe he shouldn't be asking himself too many questions.

“Until what?”, Alphonse insisted.

Derrick glanced at Andrew again, only for a second, then he immediately looked away.

“I'll talk to you later”

Alphonse gave a small nod and went back to his desk, while Andrew slowly unclenched his hand from the armrest of his chair. He hadn't even realized he'd been grasping on it until then, maybe because of the mixture of worry and irritation that was rising up inside him.

_The fuck does he have to talk to him about?_

Or rather, why couldn't he do it there?

_Because I'm here._

It was quite obvious, especially with the way he had looked at him for a second.

_It's something he doesn't want me to hear._

He had seemed... ashamed. Maybe even a bit guilty.

Now _that_ was suspicious.

Andrew didn't like it, not one bit. It was none of his business but... what would Derrick have to discuss with Alphonse anyway? Sure, he probably considered the guy to be his friend, since apparently anyone who talked with him long enough was a friend for him. But why _Alphonse_? What was it that he couldn't tell him? He'd known him far longer than Alphonse had.

And what was up with all that touching? His stomach clenched as he thought back to it. He knew he had no right to be suspicious, but he didn't recall him touching him like that before. Not in such a slow, deliberate manner. It was...

_Disgusting._

Still, even if Alphonse had decided to seduce _Derrick_ of all people, he knew he would have no right to feel jealous.

_So much for being serious about me, right, Al?_

He knew it shouldn't have irked him as much as it did. He knew it all too well.

_And what about Susan?_ , he thought, cringing as soon as he did so. He told himself he had no right, no right at all to judge.

_Besides, you're just jumping to assumptions. You have no idea of what is even going on and yet you're this pissed?_

It wasn't fair.

“ _Life is unfair...”_

He knew that Derrick of all people wouldn't be the kind to do something like that.

“ _...I thought you knew that much by now”._

Still, the thought lingered, weighing on him like a stone.

  
  


The days went on, with Andrew feeling more resentful and guilty with each passing one.

_Why won't she come home yet?_

It was not even the weekend, and he already felt like he was at his limit.

_How many days has it been?_

When was the weekend even coming? He could have sworn it should have been there by then. Just how many days had passed since she left?

_Far too many._

He couldn't even tell.

Valentine was still holding a grudge, while he was too stubborn and anxious to confront him. He knew what he wanted from him, at least he thought he did, so what could he tell him? That he couldn't do that? That he was too weak to go against his own desires? That he was too selfish to give them up for the sake of his family?

_Haven't I given enough yet?_

Derrick was still distracted and nervous, and Andrew didn't know what was up with that but it concerned him.

Or well, it concerned him about getting their work done in-

_Fuck off, will you?_

Sometimes he wished he could have put a cork on his inner voices. Then maybe he would have stopped feeling so miserable and confused about every little thing.

  
  


It was Derrick who approached him first, on one of those days. Andrew had walked out to get some fresh air in the only spot available for that purpose, that being the emergency staircase.

Hearing the door open, Andrew tried to keep his heart from beating too loudly, feeling an odd mixture of relief and disappointment as he saw the redhead's familiar figure appear in front of him, as tall and imposing and Alphonse if not even more.

Even so, he moved away from the edge of the railing.

“How's Valentine doing?”

Andrew shrugged.

“Haven't talked much to him since we fought. He's completely ignoring me, pretty much”.

Derrick shook his head and smirked.

“He does take after you, alright”.

Andrew looked away. He was feeling restless. He'd gone out there to clear out his mind-

_Oh is that why you're here, really?_

-but it didn't seem to be working. He figured he might as well head back to the office, but if Derrick was there that meant he'd be alone with Alphonse and that was...

_Bad. That would be bad._

He expected Derrick to start talking nonstop like he usually would when they had a moment of pause, instead the other man was not even looking at him. In fact he was looking at his own shoes, looking weirdly uncomfortable.

Seeing him like that, Andrew had a sinking feeling that whatever the reason for that was, he didn't want to hear of it. Still, before he could leave, the other finally seemed to gather the courage to speak.

“Andy, what you're doing...”, Derrick said, hesitating as he looked up at him and frowned. “It isn't fair. It isn't fair to Angela or... or to Val”.

Andrew frowned as well, once again feeling the urge to get away from that situation but he didn't want to seem like he was running away. He had nothing to run away from. Whatever Derrick thought he knew it was...

_"There, can you feel it?"_

… it was irrelevant. And none of his business in the first place.

“I'm not doing anything”, he replied in his coldest tone, wanting to make sure the other would know not to push the subject. Except Derrick didn't seem to get the hint, or if he did he simply didn't care.

“Andy, I saw you at the bar-”.

“I was drunk”.

“You shouldn't- you never get this drunk”.

“So what?”.

“So you-”. Derrick interrupted himself and sighed. “Look I... I like Al, but he's... there's something weird going on between you two. And it's not the alcohol.”

“Maybe you're just imagining things”.

Derrick narrowed his eyes, but he didn't respond for a while. Then he glanced at the door before speaking again.

“It's not- I know I told you to make up with him but he's clearly not getting the hint. And I don't think that you're helping”.

Andrew scoffed and scratched his hand, scraping on a patch of skin on its back that was drying off and flaking. The restless feeling increased the more he was there with him but he didn't know how to shake it off. He almost wished for one of Alphonse's cigarettes, even if he didn't smoke.

“What am I supposed to do then, just go back to ignoring him? Cause that's surely worked great the last time...”

“I don't- it's not like I don't want you to get along but- not like this! It's like he's doing something to you”.

“I told you, I'm just tired. It's hard without Angela around. And Valentine-”.

“Then why don't you fucking talk instead of- of fucking things up for them?”, Derrick snapped, his frustration growing with every word. “If you're going to ruin your marriage-”.

“I'm not going to do fucking anything! I wouldn't, just because- look, whatever you think is going on, it's not happening. It's not. I told him as much”, Andrew replied, fingernails digging into his skin and pulling on it. His irritation was seeping into his tone and he was shaking in anger, holding back from saying things he knew he might come to regret.

Derrick didn't look like he was convinced by his words, in fact he was looking at him with something akin to disgust.

_Whatever. You don't have any fucking right-_

“Look, I don't know what's gotten into you but whatever it is, I don't like it.”

Andrew looked back to the door and shrugged, walking right past him.

“Well too fucking bad then, can't always have what we want in life”, he hissed as he made his way back to the office, the feeling of unrest welling up inside him and not easing in the slightest.

He had to get away from there, in fact he wanted to get away from that place altogether.

_But where to, anyway?_

He had nowhere to go, and no one to turn to, either.

_They can just fuck off then, all of them. I don't have any time for their bullshit._

He couldn't brush off the look on Derrick's face. He had never looked at him like that before. It reminded him of-

“ _You really take after that bitch”._

\- something unpleasant.

  
  


  
  


The day Stevenson showed up again, Andrew had barely talked to either Derrick nor Alphonse, the guilt and irritation mixing up together with the dread of the upcoming weekend.

Things weren't getting better with Valentine. He figured being ignored would be better than arguing but he only felt worse with each passing day, and he knew Angela would be able to tell something was wrong as soon as she came back, and then how would he explain it?

_What if he tells on her?_

He'd barely heard back from her either, something about connection problems, and at that point he didn't care if he ended up begging for her to come back as long as he could hear her voice. He needed her, he was counting down the days until she'd finally be there again and still they kept blurring together and yet rather than passing by quicker they only felt longer.

He needed her to be back. He needed her. Without her, he was weak.

Without her, he didn't trust himself.

Yet, whenever the phone rang he couldn't help but feel his anxiety spike.

Always the same number... he knew it even before he reached the phone to check. He knew it wasn't her.

_Why won't they stop calling?._

He would have to tell her about that too. Maybe she would know what to do.

In the meanwhile, he was barely holding it together. His nights had gotten worse too, and he kept waking up anywhere but in his bed. He hadn't gotten out of the house again but he'd woken up in the shower once, the cold water jolting him awake.

His hands were scrubbed raw. He couldn't wash his smell off. He couldn't help but wonder if that was how Derrick knew. If Valentine knew. Maybe that was why he couldn't stand his presence.

He couldn't touch himself after that. Even if he hadn't promised Angela he wouldn't be able to. Every time he was tempted to it only brought him back to that night and then he felt it again, all over him.

_It reeks of him._

He could barely stand to be close to him at work. At some point, it was so bad that he felt like he was going to be sick, running off to the bathroom and locking himself in the stall but that too brought back memories, or rather flashes of what he knew not to be memories yet to his mind it still made no difference.

He spent God-knows-how long dry-heaving over the toilet without anything coming out, and when he came out trembling he was only mildly surprised to see his boss there.

“Get the fuck out of here. I don't want you spreading whatever you caught to the whole office”, the man barked at him.

Andrew was too tired to argue. It wasn't like he'd be doing any better at home, but he didn't care. At least he would be away from Derrick's judgement and Alphonse's presence. That had to count for something, right?

“I could drive you back, you know”, Alphonse offered after he informed the two.

Andrew could feel Derrick's stare even without looking at him, but he didn't need him to tell him not to anyway. The last thing he needed was for Valentine to see him come back home with him.

“I'm fine. I'll just catch the bus”.

“Alright then. See you”.

“Yeah, sure. I'll be back on Monday”.

He didn't say anything to Derrick and the other didn't either. He guessed he could note that down in the list of things he fucked up so far.

  
  


There was no sign of life as he came back home, but that did not surprise him. He wasn't sure if Valentine was back or not, but it wasn't like he would come to greet him anyway. Not like he would expect him back so soon, but-

The phone rang again. He stiffened.

_Why won't you fucking stop?_

He glanced at it and clenched his fists. He knew who it was. He just knew. He wasn't going to answer, not even to cut it off.

_Fucking... just fucking stop. Please._

He wanted to collapse in his bed. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. Maybe he would get some sleep.

_Hah. As if._

Well, he could always try.

Still, as he walked up the stairs and tried to ignore the ringing, there was something else bothering him. He didn't know what it was, but it only grew stronger as he reached the corridor and stopped dead in his tracks after a few steps.

_Why is the door open?_

He never left his door open. Did Valentine sneak in to get something again? He walked up to it slowly, wondering if he would catch him in the act, when something else caught his attention.

_What is that-_

He thought he recognized that sound, but with the ringing covering it up he wasn't quite sure of what it was. His gut told him not to get any closer, but he told himself it was probably because of those weird dreams he'd been having.

_It's just my bedroom. I know what's in there. And if anyone's in there it's probably just Valentine._

He came right up to it and slowly pushed it open.

He froze.

_What the-_

For a moment it was like he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing or hearing.

Or rather, he _knew_ what, but it _couldn't_ be. That couldn't be his son, naked and on top of a guy... no, not just any guy, he would have recognized that dyed blond hair and that voice anywhere, there was no way he wouldn't recognize his son's best friend.

_No..._

As he stood there and stared in a mixture of horror and disbelief all he could think of were the countless times that Mike had been there before. The same boy he'd driven home to his family and prepared snacks for in the afternoon and played with together with Val when they were younger, the same boy was naked on his bed with his hands all over his son, and Valentine... he was letting him do all that, hell, he was wrapping his arms and legs around him and moving wildly on top of him while letting out the most obscene moans Andrew had ever heard outside of a porno.

If there was a sound Andrew wished he could have wiped from his memory forever that would be it. He could feel his nausea coming back and he knew he should have left or said something but somehow he couldn't move. It was like he wasn't really there, like that wasn't his body and he was nothing but a helpless spectator.

_It can't be..._

As much as he wanted to pretend it wasn't real, he knew it had to. As fucked up as his dreams were he never could have come up with something like that on his own. And he wanted to leave, he wanted to run out and pretend he didn't see anything but he couldn't. It was like he was frozen there, his hand stuck to the edge of the door like it was glued there, eyes wide open and his other hand clasped on his mouth, holding back a scream that never came.

_How could I... how could I not know? How long has this been going on?! How could he... it's my fucking bedroom!_

As his initial shock subsided, Andrew felt the anger rise at the nerve of it all, that was _his_ fucking bedroom, in his fucking house, under his fucking roof, how fucking dare he! On _his_ fucking bed!

He had to put a stop to it, he had to do something but how could he, what could he even say to _that_?! He couldn't just _let them_ , but if he acknowledged it then he couldn't pretend he'd never seen anything, he couldn't pretend his son wasn't fucking his best friend _on his fucking bed_ and good Lord he would have to _burn_ the bedsheets, he would-

But then, much to his horror, Valentine looked up and their eyes met.

_Oh you fucking-_

And the little shit didn't look scared or mortified in the slightest! Of course not.

No, in fact the little shit _smirked,_ looking at his father dead in the eye and sitting up straight on Mike's lap, moving his hips even faster and letting out one single drawled out word.

“Faster”.

If Andrew could have paled his face would have been as white as a ghost. He had to be dreaming. It had to be some sort of nightmare, that couldn't be happening.

_Please just fucking wake up, just wake up, wake up, please..._

“V-Val... aah! Wait, hold on, that's too- Fuck! Oh God!”, Mike cried out, his hands moving down to the other boy's hips before they were grasped and held down against the sheets. “W-what's gotten into-”.

“We've... got to... hurry”, Valentine replied, his dark eyes staring into Andrew's as if to dare him to do anything about it, pinning him in place as much as he was doing with his friend. “My father...nh... is back”.

Mike groaned loudly in response, only then noticing that Valentine was looking away. “Ah! H-huh? How do you-”.

His eyes met Andrew's horrified stare and his face went from bright pink to chalk white in a matter of seconds.

“FUCK!”.

The boy practically threw the other across the bed as he jumped down and covered himself, his other hand palming the sheets in search for his clothes.

“Ah, I-I can- I-I can explain! W-well I-we... uhm...”, he stammered, putting his shirt on backwards and struggling to get his legs inside his jeans as soon as he found them. “I-I-I wasn't... he- we just... uuuh I will be going now!”.

He didn't even bother to try putting back his socks or shoes after grabbing them, darting past Andrew and ducking to slip underneath his arm, running away as if the devil himself was coming for him.

As for Andrew, he was still standing there but his expression changed from one of horrified shock to one of cold, seething anger. He didn't yell or raise his voice, in fact he spoke in a low growl as his eyes narrowed, glancing back from the escaping figure towards Valentine.

“What in- what in hell were you even thinking?”, he asked, his tone almost deceivingly calm if not for the fact that his voice was shaking.

“I didn't know you'd be back already”, Valentine replied, sitting back up without even bothering to cover himself. “You could have let me finish. I was almost-”

“DON'T-”. Andrew clenched his teeth and breathed in deeply, grasping one hand with the other and scratching on the already-irritated skin on its back, closing his eyes as he slowly counted up to ten. The pain was grounding in a way, it pushed back his initial wave of rage and his instinct to just lunge at him and shake him while screaming in his face.

“Just fu-... just shut up for once”, he told him as he opened his eyes again, this time managing to control his voice. “Please”.

He couldn't... he couldn't lose his nerve like that. He was better than that. It was probably what the other was going for anyway. He was provoking him, once again, and he knew better than to fall for it.

But God, he was making it harder than ever this time.

“Or else what?”, Valentine replied in a mocking tone, crawling out of the bedsheets and getting up from the bed to walk right up to him, still fully naked and drenched in sweat and probably other things that Andrew didn't even want to think of. “Are you going to spank me?”

Andrew took another deep breath and turned away, because he didn't know if he could stand to even look at him in that moment. He was too disgusted and angry with him, it wasn't so much the fact that he'd been having sex without him knowing, but the nerve with which he'd done it! How could he not know he'd be pissed?

No, of course he would know, he wasn't that stupid. Hell, maybe he was even getting off of it or something. That surely seemed to be the case earlier.

His stomach churned up at the thought. He almost wanted to throw up but he couldn't leave him there _in his damn bed_ , soaked in...

_God, don't- don't even make me think of that._

“Know what, get out of here. I don't even want to see your face right now. Just get out”. He told him. “I'll deal with you later”.

He knew he was at the end of his fuse, he could feel it. If the other didn't cut it off right away...

_I have to make him go. Now._

Valentine merely stared at him in the same unnerving way as before, prompting him to look away again because he couldn't stand it, it was going to drive him mad.

“Valentine, just... just leave. Ok?”. He knew it sounded almost pathetic but he didn't care. Whatever got him out of there as soon as possible. Maybe if he saw how tired he was he would put a stop to it.

_Please, I don't want to deal with this. Not now. Please, just fucking go._

“So what, have I been a bad boy?”, Valentine whispered. His voice was smooth and low and undeniably suggestive, making a cold, unpleasant shiver run down Andrew's spine even before the boy's hands moved to unbuckle his belt. “Punish me, daddy”.

_You FUCKING-_

His hand moved before he could even think, hitting his son's face with a loud smacking noise and leaving a bright red mark on his cheek.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! MY GOD!” he screamed, his voice practically vibrating in anger. “JUST FUCKING GET LOST ALREADY! YOU- _FUCK!_ ”. He threw him out of there and slammed the door shut, panting as he stared at it for a few more seconds before grasping on his own hair and letting out a loud incoherent angry noise, holding back from kicking at the wooden surface.

He marched up and down the room, his whole body shaking as he tried to hold himself back from throwing everything he came across on the floor and smashing it into pieces. He was fuming and restless, itching to take it out in some way but he didn't know how. All he'd ever known was to bottle things up and pretend they didn't matter but now he couldn't, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that it was all _his_ fault.

_I never would have lost my nerve like this before. I hit Valentine... I hit my own son._

The guilt was mixing into his resentment, which was now directed towards Alphonse. If he hadn't been so preoccupied with him maybe he would have noticed something earlier, and maybe Valentine wouldn't have done something like that. He had no doubt that it had been a way to get back at him, or else he wouldn't have done it in his room, and he wouldn't have provoked him like that.

_What am I doing to my family?_

He had to talk to him, but what could he even say? Not to mention that he couldn't let what happened slide as if it was nothing. Valentine was still in the wrong.

_If Angela was here she would know what to say._

But she wasn't, so he was lost and frustrated and nothing he could say or do felt like the right solution for that mess.

_I'm so fucking tired... I'm tired of this shit. I can't deal with this any more. Not on my own._

A sharp pain pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked down. The back of his hand was bleeding, his fingernail pulling at his skin hard enough to peel off a small bit from it. He'd gotten into the habit of scratching off the patches of skin that dried up and got flaky when he was nervous, but this time he pulled too hard without thinking, or maybe he dug his nail in where his skin was thinner. Either way he was bleeding and he would have to wash it off.

_And the bedsheets too._

  
  


Andrew had been worried about what he would say to Valentine once he saw him again, but the other did an even better job at avoiding him than usual. He didn't even come down for dinner, and he didn't dare to go and call him. That absence was fueling his guilt, yet at the same time he couldn't help but be glad he could put the discussion off for a little longer.

_Waiting's only going to make things even harder, and you know it._

He did. But things already were hard. So what?

_It's not like I'll be any worse at dealing with them. I'm fucking useless here. I might be even worse than he was... at least Charlie never hit me._

The more days passed the worse the situation was and the harder it was going to be to explain it all to Angela. How could he even tell her that he hit their son?

_He was fucking in our bed! He was taunting me about it!_ , a part of him instinctively replied. Even then he was still angry at him. How could he not be? But it still didn't justify the violence. That part wasn't Valentine's fault.

That part was his own damn fault.

He scratched at the bandage on his hand and winced. Yet one more thing he would have to explain.

He didn't know how to handle things any more. The same restless feeling that had been haunting him back when he fought with Derrick was coming back and even stronger. It was like a nagging voice that he didn't know how to shut up, an itch somewhere he couldn't reach and it was driving him mad. Figuratively and literally.

_Speaking of which, I should probably take my meds._

He didn't think he had taken them yet. He didn't know for sure. He guessed he better take them anyway.

_It's not like it'll make a huge difference. Hell maybe I'll sleep better with more._

Bringing the pills into the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of water and swallowed a couple of them with it. He winced at the taste they left in his mouth, wondering if he had anything to wash it off. He didn't think there was any juice left. He should have gone shopping, but he forgot.

He tried opening a few cabinets, thinking that maybe there was one more carton somewhere. He was about to give up when he opened one and found a few bottles of liquor, and one of red wine. It wasn't like they got used all that much so he had almost forgot they were there. There was that one almond liquor that they had gotten in Florence, so sweet you could easily drink it by itself.

_I'm not supposed to drink alcohol._

The lingering taste was still there, as unpleasant as ever. The restless feeling grew stronger too, but he had a feeling it would be a little more bearable if he wasn't sober.

_Cause that worked so well for you the last time now, did it._

On the other hand, this time Alphonse wasn't around.

_Worst case scenario I'll sleep the whole morning. It's not like I have work tomorrow. Who the fuck cares._

He could probably think of a million reasons why he should care, but really, he couldn't be bothered to.

Besides, he had already opened the bottle, and it sure smelled a lot more inviting than juice now that his glass was filled.

_Yeah. Fuck it. The faster this weekend goes by the less I will have to wait for it to be over. If I sleep through the whole day I'll fucking cheer to that._

It didn't even burn his throat as he swallowed it, the taste of alcohol was quite faint. So it probably wasn't that strong anyway.

_I just have to get through these days. Then everything will be fine again._

He wasn't entirely convinced of it. But, as the first glass left way to a second, and then to a third, Andrew found that it was getting a lot easier to believe it. The itching feeling was getting a little more bearable too, so maybe he was onto something.

_Just a few more days to get through..._

He would find a way to handle them. Somehow he would. He would think of something.

Still, just this once, just for that moment, he wouldn't have to.

And that, at least, had to be some sort of improvement.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
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> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


	34. A Tale of Faltering Reality - pt16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to know,  
> I just didn't want to know.  
> Best to keep things in the shallow end  
> Cause I never quite learned how to swim...
> 
> [Blue - A Perfect Circle]  
> \---
> 
> I am not entirely sure of how to warn about new potential triggers without making major spoilers for this chapter... either thing can seriously hinder one's ability to get involved with the story without souring it for themselves.
> 
> Therefore, in case you are strongly concerned about specific triggers, click [here](http://tommykainewrites.tumblr.com/post/180771828116).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry for taking this long...in part you can see why, as this chapter is insanely long. In part it's also bad time management, stress and other obligations. 
> 
> EDIT: So my betareader pointed out to me I completely forgot to warn this is the end of part 2! Unreliable Author indeed. I did not take that into consideration because I am an idiot.
> 
> Due to time management issues and the Holidays inbetween, next part is coming in January. I might get the one-shot spin off out for Christmas depending on how long it comes out, so no promises ^^' but I will start working on that in addition to the next part.
> 
> Also, due to newest tumblr updates, the most reliable way to get in touch with me besides comments is Discord, you can find the specific one for this story listed in previous chapters or ask for it in a comment.

 

Andrew studied the apparent silence, holding back his breath and concentrating as hard as he could.

He could hear wind and crickets, some trucks in the distance, a washing machine in a room not too far from there.

_Where am I?_

The sound of that place... there was something off, it sounded familiar but at the same time wrong.

He was not in his house.

He started breathing again, his heart beating fast. The sounds, the smell...

_I know this place._

He opened his eyes and looked around, taking a few steps on the wooden pavement until it creaked under his feet.

He froze.

_The board by his window- it always creaked._

“Who's there?”

The voice was raspier than he remembered, but there was no mistaking it. A dark, booming sound that used to remind him of a thunder. The rougher note to it now made it seem more like the growl of an angry dog. One of those that could bite your entire arm off if you looked at it the wrong way.

Andrew turned towards that sound, already knowing what he would see but he still gasped.

The years, it seemed, hadn't been kind to Charles. His already pale skin had taken an ashen colour, almost the same as the hair that had once been a dark brown and that seemed to have fallen away in clumps, leaving large empty patches in random patterns. His blue eyes were bloodshot, squinted in the efforts to look back at the source of the creaking. His lips, so thin it almost looked like someone carved a line in the lower part of his face, were curved into a grimace as his arm slipped out from the covers, revealing a knobby hand with fingers bent at odd angles. It was shaking as he pointed it towards Andrew, lifting his head and turning his body towards him with strenuous effort.

“You!”, he barked out, and despite his pitiful appearance Andrew still took a step backwards. “You finally came”.

For a long moment neither of them made a sound, except for the old man's laboured breathing.

“Are you-”, the man finally spoke again, lowering his hand and frowning. “Are you... really here?”.

Andrew didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure of how he came to be there, maybe he was dreaming again. He guessed if that was the case, he was as real as anything in there. Still, he didn't answer to the question.

“Gra- Vivian keeps calling me”, he said, taking one step closer. The wood creaked again under his feet.

Charles let out what Andrew first thought was a fit of cough, but then realized had actually been a short laughter.

“That stupid woman”, the old man said, and he felt a small rush of anger at those words but he quickly pushed it back. “Guess she thinks you're going to keep me around for some time longer”.

Charles pulled out his other arm and Andrew could see an IV drip on it, connected to a bag hanging above the other side of the bed. The old man pushed himself into a sitting position, the act quickly draining him of energy given how he collapsed against the headrest. Despite everything, Andrew had to hold back from helping him up and make sure he wouldn't fall over.

He didn't want to feel sorry for him. He didn't want to feel anything.

“It's all useless”. Charlie shook his head. “I'm never getting out of this bed. Not on my own legs. And there's not a damn thing she or you can do about that.”

Andrew stared at him in silence, not sure of what to even say to that. He imagined he was supposed to say something, but what could he say to the same man who told him he was as good as dead to him?

“Besides, it didn't work to keep your mother here, now did it?”, Charlie then continued, with that malicious glint in his eyes that Andrew knew all too well and was almost relieved to see. Even in that moment the bastard couldn't help but take a stab at him. He didn't know what else he should have expected.

“I take it you're still with that woman”, Charlie continued. “I hear your kid's all grown up by now. About the same age as you were then”. His lips curved up into a grin that was more gums than teeth. “Wonder if he's going to follow your example soon”.

“Don't talk- you don't know anything about my family”, Andrew growled, clenching his fists as he glared at him. “I'm not like you”. He spat out, but it seemed like that did nothing but amuse the older male. In fact, he laughed at him again, his breathing growing frantic as he started coughing. He drooled all over his chin and the front of his shirt, and despite everything Andrew averted his eyes. He'd never seen him look so undignified before. It felt like intruding in something private, something he never should have seen. Still, when Charlie spoke again he didn't seem too perturbed.

“Oh, no, you've always been more like her”. Andrew could hear a mixture of disapproval and something else he couldn't quite identify in his voice. It almost sounded... sorrowful? No, he was sure he must have misheard. “Couldn't wait to get the hell out of here fast enough. Nothing we did was ever enough for you, was it?”. There was another coughing sound, softer than before, but this time when Andrew looked at him he froze as he saw the tears spilling from his eyes.

He remembered-

_/His eyes were ice cold as they stared down at him with something akin to disgust, his lips curled up to show off some of his yellowed teeth in a snarl._

“ _Cut that shit out. I don't remember raising two daughters.”/_

-how much Charles hated to see anyone crying.

“It would have been her birthday today”, the man said, his voice strained. He was wheezing as he struggled to inch closer to the side of the bed, pawing at the covers and then at the edge of the night-stand once his trembling hand reached it. “I guess it's... I guess it's only fair,” - he panted, and the inside of his lips had a dark violet colour - “I guess it's only fair... to give this to you now”. His hand grasped on the handle of the drawer, struggling to pull it open.

Those misshapen fingers scratched at the wooden surface inside it with an unpleasant dragging sound, then there was a series of clunks as something was pushed around. Andrew didn't know what it was, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. So when Charles pulled out his hand his first instinct was to back away from it.

“Give me... your hand”, the old man commanded as firmly as he could manage, “This is... my last gift”. His arm was shaking so much it was a wonder how he could keep his hand closed in the first place, and when Andrew's touched it his skin was cold. “A gift... for my dear Andy”.

Almost as cold as the freezing metal that was dropped into his palm.

Andrew drew back his hand as quickly as possible, looking at its content in confusion. A small metal key. He didn't recognize it.

“What is this for?”.

Charles made a strangled sound. It could have been a laughter or a cry, maybe one of pain. His hand was still stretched out towards him, fingers sprawled out as if he wanted to reach for him.

Andrew stared at him and gulped loudly. He could have walked closer, could have grasped it with his own but he didn't. Eventually, that arm fell down limply at the side of the bed.

“I should have known... it was useless”, Charles said, his voice growing hoarser and more strained with every word. He coughed and wheezed as he let himself slip down on the bed, his other hand clutching at his bedsheets. “My poor... little Andy... she must have... hated me... that much... if... even you.. you couldn't-”. He coughed and drooled, eyes rolling back as he mumbled the rest of his sentence. An unintelligible gibberish and then a gurgling sound, his whole body twitching for a moment before falling still.

Andrew stared at him and felt his own blood run cold, a scream dying in his throat and a weird prickling sensation in his eyes.

“Charles?”.

His own voice was hoarse too, his hand shaking as he closed it around his grandfather's wrist.

_No pulse._

He stared down at him as if he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. It had to be a dream. There was no way, no way Charles would just-

No. Not right in front of him, not like that.

He could hear footsteps approaching, making their way towards the room at a slow pace – much slower than he remembered but he still knew... he would have recognized his grandma's footsteps anywhere.

_No..._

How could he have explained it to her? He didn't even know why or how he came to be there, he had to-

  
  


He opened his eyes and looked around, batting his eyelids a few times to try and clear out the blur in his vision. His eyelashes were a bit damp, and his hand was clutching at his bedsheets.

_A nightmare._

He let go of them and something fell down. He picked it up and froze, then he started shaking.

A small key.

_No... no no nononono_

He threw it across the room and it hit the wall, ricocheting down on the floor towards him. No matter how much he tried to look away and then glance back, it wouldn't disappear.

_It can't be, it can't it can't_

He forced himself out of his bed, his head aching and throbbing. He was fully dressed and his mouth felt gross, like when he forgot to wash his teeth before sleeping except much worse. It also felt incredibly dry.

_Right, I was drinking, I... I must have... I don't know!_

He had no idea of where that key came from but he didn't want to think about it too hard.

_It was just a dream_ , he told himself, unable to shake off the feeling of dread that came over him whenever he looked down at it. _Just a dream, just a dream..._

He couldn't bear to look at it any longer. He picked it up and threw it in his night-stand drawer.

That made him feel a bit better. If it was out of his sight then he could pretend it wasn't there. Maybe next time he opened it, the key would be gone.

He was imagining things, right? That was what it was all about. He was mentally ill and easily suggestible.

_Did I take my meds?_

Maybe he forgot. He didn't remember what he did before sleeping, but he did remember what happened before.

Unfortunately.

_Could that also have been a nightmare?_

He lifted up his bedsheets, staring down at the light blue fabric. He knew they were white before. He had changed them, as well as everything else on the bed.

_I didn't dream that._

He knew that much, but he still didn't know what to do. Had he talked to Valentine? He didn't remember... and his head hurt. It felt a lot like a bad hangover.

_Did I...?_

He licked his lips and grimaced. He felt weak and thirsty. He had to get some water. Where did his bottle go?

_Maybe I left it in the kitchen._

He didn't want to see Valentine again, but he... well. He couldn't stay there forever.

On his way downstairs he saw the phone and stopped. His hand reached out to pick up the receiver, his fingers composing the number before he could even process what he was doing. He stood there in silence and waited, but there was no answer.

He slammed it back down and stared at it in a mixture of anger and anxiety.

_It doesn't matter. It doesn't mean anything._

It was better like that. He didn't really want to hear back from them, he just-

He thought back to the key with an odd sinking feeling to the pit of his stomach.

He didn't want to know.

  
  


He didn't see Valentine for the rest of the morning. Or rather, early afternoon. He guessed he had eaten something because he found the plates in the sink.

He should have told him to wash them properly. A faint smile crossed his lips as he thought that. As if that was all he would have to tell him... God, he only wished.

_What in hell should I even say to him?_

Angela would have known. Of course she would have known. She was just so goddamn perfect when it came to those things, Hell, none of that would have happened if she was there.

But she wasn't.

_When she comes back-_

She would, soon enough she would. She had to.

_For what?_

He didn't want to even think- he knew she would, but still...

_Don't you get it? She's finally gotten out of this mess._

His hands couldn't stop shaking, his half-burned rice spilling all over the table before he gave up on finishing his plate.

_Did you think she was going to put up with your bullshit forever? She probably knows, she probably is glad you gave her a reason to fuck off without having to feel sorry for you!_

He threw up the rest in the toilet, his anxiety tying up his stomach in knots.

_You fucked up, you fucked up and you know it, you ruined everything and now she's gone and it's all your fault..._

“She's coming back soon”, he whimpered, fingers clutching on the cold porcelain as he tried to fight off the nausea. “She's coming back soon, it's alright, it's alright... she won't leave... she can't leave... s-she can't...”.

He showered again to take off the stench. He smelled of vomit and sweat and yet above all another much different smell kept haunting him.

He scrubbed his hands until they were bright red and burning, accidentally peeling off a scab in the process. He didn't mind too much. It kind of felt reassuring in an odd way, watching the blood flow and feeling the sting of the scalding water on his raw skin and knowing that pain was real. Maybe the only thing he could say that for.

_What a depressing thought._

  
  


When he got back to his room, it felt like something was off. He couldn't be sure, but he was-

No, he couldn't really say that he was certain of it. But he did _feel_ like he was.

He walked towards the bookshelves, staring at them and focusing as hard as he could. Something felt different about it. Had something been moved? It would have been pretty much impossible to tell, but-

His eyes fell on a small group of photo albums, giving him a small wave of nostalgia. He liked to look at them from time to time. There was also a box with a collection of things that would have been useless if not for their sentimental value. Valentine's very first pair of shoes, for example, so small they had barely fit him when he was a toddler and only for a very short time.

He picked it up, and frowned. It was lighter than he remembered. It also seemed... different, somehow, although he wasn't sure why. It was a normal shoebox, one like any other.

Had it always been that colour, though? He could be misremembering but, wasn't it supposed to be darker? Almost black except not quite, more like a very dark brown?

The box in his hands was grey. A very dark grey, but clearly grey.

_Am I...? I'm not mixing it up, I'm sure, but is this really-?_

He opened it up.

_It's not, the fuck? Where is_ -

Inside was an assortment of papers, some of which looked like they'd been crumpled up and then straightened up again, as if someone had thrown them away and then decided against it, or maybe someone else had picked them up and got curious. Andrew put the box down on the bed and sat down to examine one of them, taking it and bringing it closer to his face.

A drawing, made out of charcoal so it was hard to tell with the way it had smudged into the wrinkles, but it seemed to be some sort of human figure contorted into a pose that made it look almost monstrous.

He placed it out on the bed and had a look at some more of the crumpled up papers. All drawings, all depicting similar human-like figures twisted into uncomfortable poses. Looking at all of them together, they seemed sort of... lumpy. They reminded him of bloated corpses from some of those TV series or movies focused on crime investigations and murders, like when they would find days-old drowning victims.

He tilted his head, as if seeing them from another angle would somehow uncover their secrets. The detectives in those series always seemed to have some sort of sudden revelation after staring at the evidence for long enough, but he still felt as if he didn't have the slightest clue. One of them however was more grotesque than the others, with the figure seeming to spill its own guts, hands ripping its stomach open.

He tried to take the remaining papers out of the box, placing them near the crumpled up ones. The subject was the same, but some of them were sketched in pen or pencil. Only one of them was in colour, seemingly made with pastels since the pigment stained his fingers when he touched it. It wasn't entirely realistic, in fact it reminded him of The Scream and other paintings from the same artist. He knew that Angela liked his works but he couldn't quite remember his name. He knew that he was Finnish, or something like that. He never cared too much for them. They had a sort of morbid quality to them, and the same was true for those pictures.

The one in colour, in particular, made it easier to tell the details apart. The face was not fully defined, but the visible features were twisted into an anguished grimace, the guts that spilled out from the bloated and ripped-open belly were bright red and pink and, upon closer inspection, Andrew thought he could make out the shape of a newborn baby. It was unsettling enough before, but that detail gave him the chills.

Plus there was something bugging him, beyond the questionable taste of the subject matter. His fingers traced the edges of the figure, the pale skin and the long hair falling to the side of its face, the long dress...

The intense color of the garment was in stark contrast to the blood, it was a beautiful shade of light blue, almost teal but not quite. He knew that shade of blue, it was a very specific color, the same one as Angela's favorite curtains and-

_Robin egg blue! It's..._

-the same exact one as...

_...her dress._

It all clicked together at once.

_Oh God..._

He picked up the pastel drawing again, a mixture of confusion and horror welling up inside him. He didn't know how that box came to be in the same place as the other one, but he doubted he was supposed to ever find out about it.

He knew what those drawings portrayed. He always knew that she'd suffered through the whole thing but the expression on her face in those pictures... it was not just suffering, it was-

_Hatred. Disgust._

-much worse than that.

“It's pretty sick, huh?”.

The sudden voice behind him startled him, making him drop the paper and almost fall from the bed as he tried to turn and jump backwards at the same time. Thankfully Valentine grasped on his shirt by his shoulder, preventing him from fully losing his balance.

Andrew didn't even have the time to feel relieved before realizing the situation, and by the time he hastily threw everything back in the box it was too late.

_He saw, fuck, he saw! When did he even get in?!_

“It's no use you know. I've seen them all already”, Valentine calmly noted, picking up one of the pencil drawings and giving it a quick glance. “I like the one where I'm choking on my own umbilical cord. It's kinda hard to see but it's there, you see, if you look closely-”

“Enough!”. Andrew snatched it back and threw it inside again, closing the lid and pushing it down on the floor, away from them. He was still shocked by the discovery and hadn't even been able to process it yet, the last thing he wanted was to have to confront Valentine about it. “It's just a drawing, it doesn't mean... it's only a bunch of lines on paper”.

“And you're only a bunch of meat on top of a skeleton”, Valentine replied, taking one of his arms and pulling it closer to have a look at his hand. “Are you trying to grate off your skin or what?”.

“It's none o- it's just some allergic reaction to the soap. I forgot to buy a new one”, Andrew lied, pulling his arm away from his grasp. Or trying to, at least, because as he did so Valentine followed until he was uncomfortably close for his liking. Especially in light of the previous day's events.

“Dirty conscience, dad?”, Valentine asked, wrapping his hands around Andrew's injured one. “That's ok, you see, everyone's hiding their shit from each other in his family. None of our hands are clean, so at least you're in good company”.

Andrew glared at him. “You weren't hiding yesterday”, he replied, unable to hold back his irritation. It was a childish retort but that whole situation was absurd in the first place. Once again he tried to pull his hand back, but it was locked into an iron grip and he could not withdraw it, which only added to his nervousness.

“I don't have anything to hide. It's not like I'm married, right?”

Andrew looked away, his irritation and shame mixing together. He knew it was pointless to argue but still he couldn't help but feel defensive at that retort.

“He's got a girlfriend, doesn't he?”, he asked, clenching his hand around Valentine's. He didn't want to have that conversation with him, not now, not ever, but it wasn't like anything had been going his way lately. What else did he expect?

“It's only for appearance. He wouldn't even know what to do with a girl”, Valentine replied, shrugging. “Besides, I'm better than her, and I'm not interested in dating. It works out for both really.”

Andrew didn't know what to say to that. It was too much to take in, but he knew he couldn't ignore it.

“Did he... did Mike push you into it?”

He had to understand. He had to know what was going on with him. The image he had of him... even with how reckless he was, even if he was growing close to the same age as when his own life changed forever, he never could have predicted him doing something like that. Not in his own home, not under his goddamn nose.

“Why didn't you say no?”

Valentine smiled. “It's more like the other way around really”, he said, his tone almost condescending. “I knew that he wanted me, so I went for it. Kinda screwed it over for me since now he's terrified of ever setting place here again.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes.

“As he should be”, he growled.

That little shit! He'd treated him almost like a second son, and that was how he repaid him? All that time he had trusted him to be a good company for Valentine, someone who would watch out for him if he saw him get into a bad situation, but instead the bastard took advantage of his trust.

Valentine rolled his eyes and humpfed.

“It's not his fault, dad. I wanted him. I knew he could not say no”, he said, inching closer and closer until Andrew was almost tempted to run away, but it was ridiculous. That was his room. He wasn't the one intruding there, he wasn't the one in the wrong. He was the one setting the rules in his house. So why did he feel so threatened by a damn kid?

“If you want to blame someone, you should blame me”, Valentine whispered against his ear, in the same tone he had used back when he'd gotten caught. It sent chills down Andrew's spine, and not in a pleasant way. “I'm the one who should be punished”.

“Get out of here”, Andrew replied, pushing him away- only for Valentine to use his weight against him and pin him down on the bed.

“I don't mind if you think I'm an awful son. You could take it out on me, you know. Teach me a good lesson”, he said, crawling on top of him and holding him down. “Mom would never know, I'm good at keeping secrets”. He smiled down at him, his dark eyes fixed into Andrew's hazel ones in a way that made him feel naked. Rather than to struggle, his first urge was to cover himself from over his clothes. “You could not even think of me at all if you want. I don't mind if you think of him”.

Under normal circumstances, Andrew would have kicked him off and dragged him outside, but something strange happened before he could even try. Valentine's face was... it was as if his features were morphing, his nose and his lips and his chin, even his curls were straightening, and his voice-

“You don't have to deny it, Andrew”, Alphonse whispered against his lips, one hand slipping under his shirt to caress his stomach. “You don't have to hold back with me”. His hand moved down lower, grasping him from over the front of his pants and drawing out a pained gasp from Andrew. “All the time you've spent running away from what you want, all the time you've held yourself back, I'll make it up to you”.

Andrew didn't understand, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. His lips parted and he breathed in the other's smell, it was intoxicating and terrifying and yet it was all he ever wanted to. He was about to lean in and kiss him, when the other suddenly drew back.

“Just promise me, you'll stop chasing after him”, Valentine said, grasping on his father's chin as his eyes narrowed, black orbs piercing into his with a frighteningly serious glare. “Promise, and I'll give you anything. Anything she doesn't want to, anything you've ever been too afraid to ask for, you can take it all from me”. He glanced away and his expression changed – he was still smiling, but it looked different. Even his tone was more bitter. “Just as long as you don't let him take you away from us”.

The realization of what he'd been about to do struck Andrew like a physical blow, his hands moving to grasp Valentine's as he shook his head, disgust and guilt and anger all welling up and making him want to crawl into a hole and hide from everyone and everything.

“No”, he whispered, cringing as he saw the anger on the other's face. He gasped and turned his head when Valentine tried to kiss him. “No, no, this is insane!”, he insisted, struggling until he managed to push him off and to the side and pulling at the bedsheets to cover himself. He was shaking as he saw his face, the face he knew to be his, he didn't know how he could possibly have gotten confused except his head was a complete mess and that had to be it. Yet another manifestation of his illness, and the thought that it was starting to affect how he saw his family now was downright terrifying.

“You know what”, Valentine said, his tone suddenly cold and distant. “Maybe you should leave”.

“I don't w-”

“You don't want anything! You only want to feel like you've done the right thing, and that's more important than being honest with yourself isn't it?”, Valentine snapped, getting up from the bed and glaring at him. “Have you ever fucking done something, _anything_ because you've wanted to? Is there anything in your life you've done for yourself? At least I'm doing what _I_ want! You- you wouldn't even know what that means!”

“That's not true!”. Andrew did not want to raise his voice too but he couldn't hold it back, his anger and shame taking over. He wished he could have felt as confident as he sounded, because the fact was his son's words rang uncomfortably true and he didn't know how to respond to that when he knew sheer denial wasn't gonna cut it.

“Shut up! I don't fucking care!”, Valentine yelled, turning around and marching towards the door. “You can go choke on his dick for all I care!”

The door was slammed shut and Andrew groaned, letting the sheets fall down as he covered his face with his hands. He couldn't let things stay like that, he had to do something, anything, but his mind was at loss and the only thing driving him to try and get up to follow him was a blind panic.

“Valentine wait, I-”

  
  


“Wait!”.

Andrew jolted up, or at least tried to. His body felt stiff and unresponsive, his breathing shallow, as if he was being crushed against the mattress.

_A dream?_

He looked up and gasped. It was too dark to see well but the shape above him was not unfamiliar, the presence looming over him was too small to be Alphonse's and the only other person in the house was-

“Valent-”

The last syllable didn't even make it out of his lips before the other was gone. He blinked again but it did not bring him back.

_Just a trick of the light_ , he thought, but somehow he did not feel relief.

He felt tired. That was all that he felt. He didn't know how much he'd slept, hell, he didn't even know which day it was at that point. It was night time, or maybe late evening, that was all he knew.

He wished he could simply close his eyes and rest but he knew he wouldn't be able to. He was exhausted, but his mind was too agitated to go back to sleep. Not to mention he was scared of where his nightmares would bring him. Sometimes he would forget about them almost as soon as he woke up but this was not one of those times.

He almost felt like throwing up at the memory. He was sick, there was no doubt about that. No sane person would come up with something that fucked up. Much less mix up his son with the man he wanted to fuck. Even for a dream that was far too much.

“ _Maybe you should leave”._

Maybe Alphonse was not the problem there. He was unwell, to the point where it had already started to weigh on his wife. Maybe it was just a matter of time before it degenerated even further.

He felt even worse at the thought.

“ _Y_ _ou did sneak into my room like this”._

He couldn't let it... if it became dangerous to him to be around his family what was he supposed to do, if not-

“ _-leave”_.

_No. No, no I won't, I can't!_

But was that for his family's sake, or was it because he was scared? He didn't want to leave, it wasn't fair, but if staying there would come to hurt his family then what choice did he have? Unless...

Maybe he _wanted_ to have an excuse to leave that would make it seem like it was beyond his control, a noble choice even, in order to have a convenient excuse to go after Alphonse? It seemed absurd, but the whole thing already was in the first place so...

_Fuck, shut up, I don't- ugh just fucking SHUT UP!_

His head was hurting from trying to make sense of any of it, which was the last thing he wanted to deal with when he was so tired and anxious to begin with. All he wanted was for his brain to quiet down for a moment but of course it wouldn't let him have even one second of peace.

He scratched at his hand and that pulled him away for a moment but the pain was only a momentary distraction. He wanted, no, _needed_ something better. Something to dampen his thoughts and quieten the itching.

_The pills-_

\- wouldn't do shit, and he knew it. Not alone at least.

He didn't have work the next day. Did he? Probably not. He was... he was fairly sure. Time was a bit fuzzy those days.

_How long has she been gone for anyway?_

It felt like forever. Maybe it was. Maybe he was in hell and that was some sort of endless punishment. What for, he wasn't sure. Everything and nothing. If sinning was an act of the mind, the thought was as bad as the act itself, wasn't it?

_Then I would have plenty to suffer for._

Then again, if he really was in Hell what did it matter?

_If she's not coming back what good is it for?_

He thought he could hear the phone ringing. He didn't care.

_I'm too tired._

  
  


  
  


It was so loud in the office. Andrew had no idea of how he ever managed to focus in that ruckus.

Then again maybe that was not the case. Maybe it was that he wasn't used to the silence from Derrick. Alphonse wasn't there at the moment, still the other didn't say a word.

_To hell with that._

He didn't care. He had his work to do. If only he could stay on track...

Maybe the noise wasn't even from the office. Maybe it was more like his brain wouldn't shut up. If he was at home he would have known how to...

_Yeah, that's really the way to go isn't it? Go and get fucking drunk. Best way to solve all your problems. You're fucking pathetic._

It wouldn't stop pestering him. At all times, instead of growing quieter it only got louder and more obnoxious. He couldn't get anything done like that. What was he doing there anyway?

_Yeah, that's right, run away you fucking coward._

He could get out of there, but what good would it do? He couldn't get away from the voice when it was following him everywhere.

_It's like in those horror movies, where the call is coming from inside the house._

Well if only it would slay him like that too, at least he wouldn't have to listen.

“I'm going out for a moment”, he said, not even looking to his side. It was all an act, but there was no response to it. Derrick couldn't even bother to play along. He guessed he couldn't blame him.

The way to the staircase, he knew it all too well. Maybe he could take it out on Alphonse. He was sure he'd find him there.

_He's probably fed up with you too. You've managed to alienate everyone. Charles was right. Charles was always right. You're a good for nothing, just like her. She probably knew that much._

Andrew was growing frustrated with his search. He knew the way there, or so he thought. He guessed he was wrong about that too.

_Can't even do that well._

He kept walking for what felt like an eternity. It should have been there. He was sure. How hard could it be to find? He was growing frustrated and about to give up when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“You seem lost”.

He didn't have to turn around to know it was him, but he still did. Alphonse approaching him slowly, grinning in a way that made him want to run back to his desk, but what good would that do? He was the one who came looking for him anyway.

“So you've finally made a decision”, Alphonse said as he reached him, one hand moving to touch his face.

Despite everything, Andrew still moved back. The other man chuckled.

“Or maybe not. Well, I guess it doesn't matter”.

Andrew didn't have any time to act before he was pushed inside a room, the door closing behind them. It was cramped, more like a supply closet in terms of space, and it didn't leave him any chance to try and get away. There was no way to leave without going past Alphonse. The bastard must have planned it.

That realization made Andrew regret his choice in an instant. His memories came rushing back and he froze there, he knew it wasn't real but it still didn't change the terror that he felt as the other pushed him against the wall and trapped him there.

“Wait, don't-”

“It's too late to run, Andy”, Alphonse said, grasping on his tie and pulling until he was out of breath. “I'm tired of playing the waiting game.”

Andrew tried to get him to loosen his grasp and push him off but to no avail.

“A-Alphonse... d-don't!”, he gasped, struggling to breathe as his airways were constricted by that damn thin strip of fabric. He always hated those things, always felt suffocated by them, it almost seemed ironic that now his fear was coming to life in such a literal sense.

“You'd whined so much about not getting a choice that I figured I'd see what you'd do with it”, Alphonse continued, seemingly unfazed by his attempts to fight him off. “I have to say, I'm quite underwhelmed. Not surprised though”. The man finally let go and chuckled again at his coughing and desperate wheezing as he gulped in huge lungfuls of air. “Except, well, I didn't think you'd make it so easy for me”

“W-what are you...” _\- cough -_ “ _..._ talking about?”. Andrew struggled to respond, voice still broken by the coughing. “This isn't...” _\- cough - “_.. funny”

“You're still so clueless?”, Alphonse asked him, grasping on his tie again but this time to hold him in place as he leaned in to kiss him. “I guess it suits you”

Andrew didn't like the way things were going. It wasn't the first time the other was openly hitting on him but there was a threatening air to him that reminded him of the time he held him up on the staircase.

Why, by God why did he think it was a good idea to look for him after _that_ happened?

Well, not like he actually thought it was a _good_ idea. He didn't know why he'd done it in the first place, it just...

_That's what I felt like doing._

But he didn't feel like kissing him back, even if a part of him wasn't exactly opposed to the idea. So while he didn't pull back he also didn't reciprocate, closing his eyes and waiting for it to be over.

Surprisingly enough, the kiss never came. Instead, those lips brushed past his cheek and his warm breath tickled his ear.

“Andy, my dear, did you really think I would forget our lovely night together?”, Alphonse whispered right against it, chuckling as he felt him stiffen in shock. “Or the time I made you cry out in pleasure while your wife was busy getting chatted up by your boss?”

Andrew felt his heart stop.

_No._

It couldn't... he couldn't have actually heard that right.

_No no no it can't-_

“That- that didn't happen!”, he replied, wishing his voice wouldn't tremble so much. “I went-”

“Wasn't it convenient to think you never actually did anything to be ashamed of?”, Alphonse continued, pulling Andrew's shirt out of his pants before he could start to unbutton it. “Must have been a relief”.

“No, no that... that wasn't real!”.

Andrew tried to move past him, but Alphonse shoved him back against the wall.

“Reality is what you make of it, Andrew”, the man told him, slipping his shirt down from his shoulders. “Your reality, right now, is that you're fucked”.

“No, no, no...”.

Andrew was starting to panic, it couldn't be, it had to be another dream but then why wasn't he waking up yet? He had to wake up!

“You really think your wife is coming back for you?”, Alphonse said, his voice echoing the one inside his mind as he grasped his hands to prevent him from covering his ears.“What if she's already found something better?”

“She wouldn't-”. Andrew shook his head and kept struggling. “Alphonse, please...”

“All this time she's relied on you to keep the family afloat, but now she's doing pretty good for herself”, the other continued, smirking as Andrew started shaking all over. “All the while you're stuck here at the whims of an arrogant racist who treats you like shit, while babysitting an irresponsible kid who doesn't have any other mouth to feed but his own if he gets his ass fired for his own negligence”. He licked him on his cheek and Andrew snapped, hitting his forehead against him to try to stop him.

“Shut up! Shut up and let me- just fuck off!”

“No, not this time, Andrew. This time you're not going anywhere. You made sure of that”.

Andrew didn't understand, but he didn't want to either. All he wanted was to wake up or run off or get him to leave him alone but that wasn't happening, his panic rising as he realized he was stuck there with no chance of getting rescued.

“That mouth of yours, I'm sure we can find a better use for it”. Alphonse moved one hand down to unzip his own pants and pulled down his underwear, letting his cock hang freely between his legs. He was hard, of course he was already hard and even in that situation Andrew couldn't help but feel something stirring inside himself too.

“I don't want to, please-”.

“If you really didn't want this, you should have walked away when I told you to”, Alphonse replied, pushing him down by his shoulders with such force that he was sure it would leave bruises. “Not that I would have left you. You poor little thing... you've been fucked long before I even came around”.

“Please, not like this!”, Andrew begged, but no amount of resistance would suffice and soon he fell down on his knees, his face so close to the other's erection that he could smell it. It filled him both with fear and excitement, and in that moment he knew he was sick beyond repair. He had to be to get aroused in such a situation.

“This is exactly what you came for”. Alphonse's voice was alluring, almost soothing, but his grasp on Andrew's hair held a silent threat. “As much as you could hate this, you'll never hate it as much as you hate yourself. And that's why you can't get away from me”.

Andrew kept his mouth shut, closing his eyes too as his face was pushed against it, the shaft rubbing against his cheeks and his nose and he prayed for anything, anyone to come in and stop it even if the shame would haunt him for life if anyone saw him like that. He didn't want to give in, but his body was getting warmer.

_Good Lord, I'm disgusting._

“Your Lord can't hear you, Andy”, Alphonse taunted him, pulling so hard that the other man could feel some hair ripping from his scalp, making him wince in pain. “Or maybe he can, it's just that he doesn't care. What has he ever done for you anyway? Where was he when your mommy got raped? Where was he when you begged for her to come back? Was that in his plan? Was _this?_ ”.

“I don't- I don't care”. Andrew hated to sound so pathetic but he couldn't help it. He knew he was crying, he knew he looked pitiful in that moment but he was scared and confused and so anxious he was getting nauseous again. “Just let go of me, just let me- let me go back home, I'll just go back home and- and-”.

_Back home to what?_ , the malicious voice whispered, and he didn't know how to continue.

“There's no coming back. Not this time”, Alphonse said, his grip loosening into a slow caress as he wiped the tears from his cheeks.

It shouldn't have felt reassuring, not when he still could feel the other's length pressed against the other side of his face, but it strangely was. He wanted to lean into the touch, and that thought made him feel like throwing up but it was the truth.

“Aren't you tired, Andy?”, Alphonse asked, his other hand combing through his hair while the first one pressed against his lips, stroking them in a circular motion with his fingers. “Tired of fighting back, tired of making things work out? Tired of feeling awful no matter what you do?”

He was. He so terribly was.

He opened his eyes again. Much to his surprise, Alphonse's expression was not one of glee. He was smiling, but it was not a sarcastic smile, and when he spoke again his voice was warm and sympathetic.

“It's not enough, Andy, is it? It's never good enough. You're not good enough as a son, your work isn't good enough for your boss, you're not a good enough father for your son, you're not a good enough husband for your wife... when does it ever end?”

Alphonse's face blurred as Andrew's eyes filled with more tears. A small voice inside him told him he shouldn't listen but how couldn't he? It was everything he always told himself too. It was everything he ever knew to be true.

And he was tired of it.

“I don't...”, he whimpered, sniffling as he tried to keep his voice steady. “I don't know what-”

Alphonse's fingers slipped inside his mouth and turned his words into an unintelligible slurring.

“You don't have to know. You don't have to understand. It doesn't matter”, the man told him, forcing him to part his lips so he could push the head of his cock in together with his fingers. “You poor wretched thing... if nobody wants you, then I will. Isn't that enough?”. The taste was not as overwhelming as Andrew would have expected it to be, but the feeling was. It was filling up his mouth and making it hard to breathe, especially when it started to slip past his throat. “Just give everything to me. All that you've ever hated, all the shame you've felt, all the things you've done wrong... I'll take it all from you”.

Andrew was choking, but it didn't seem to bother Alphonse. He tried to push him back but his arm was held behind his back, his hair pulled again as the other man started thrusting inside him. He was getting dizzy, so much it even overpowered the nauseous feeling, but the more he struggled the more he was held down by what felt like an endless amount of hands. They were crawling all over him like bugs, snapping him out of his lulled out state but it was too late. Everything was growing dark and his head was heavy, a shrill voice screaming inside his mind but he couldn't make out its words.

“Just let it go. It'll be over soon”.

Alphonse's voice seemed to echo inside him, and despite his panic it felt right. He should give up. It was useless to struggle anyway. Everything was growing quiet and that was almost a relief. Maybe he didn't have to be tired for long. Maybe he should let it happen...

A sharp pain in his ear pulled him out of his trance, drawing a strangled cry out of it. The pressure grew stronger against his throat and he felt his bile rising, something like a scream piercing his ear but he couldn't make out the words.

“Hey, shh, don't struggle”, Alphonse told him a million miles above him, sounding almost as if he was submerging his head underwater. “Just let it happen”.

_No, fuck, don't you-_

“-fucking dare”, it hissed into his ear, then a punch to his stomach knocked the wind out of him and made the darkness spark up with light, but by the time he coughed against the intrusion it was already gone.

“What are you-”.

“▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓!”

Alphonse's voice was cut off by more confused screaming, the darkness once again dissolving for a moment leaving Andrew to stare back up at him, seeing the confusion that was rapidly spreading on his face. Whatever was happening, it was clear the man wasn't pleased.

“Andrew, whatever you think that you're doing...”

“▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ YOU PIECE OF SHIT! YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

His eyes were rolled back into his head, he realized that once his eyes were forced open and the light almost blinded him, but not before he could make out a blurry shape behind him.

“Oh, no I don't think so”. Alphonse voice was turning into a low growl, his hands grasping on Andrew's face with such strength that his fingernails were digging into his skin like claws. “Andrew, list-”

“I'M FUCKING CALLING MOM, I'M FUCKING CALLING HER AND TELLING HER ABOUT YOUR PIECE OF SHIT BOYFRIEND! I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU CROAK ON ME I'LL FUCKING DO IT YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT COWARD!”

_..Valentine?_

It was distorted and even more distant than Alphonse's voice, but it was unmistakeably his son's screaming. He didn't know what was happening or why he was so angry, but he forced himself to focus on it, even as the nausea was growing stronger and his whole body was twitching, struggling to get out from what felt like a thick bog.

“Just what in Hell do you think you are doing? It's over. You're not going anywhere!”. Alphonse's voice was growing lower and angrier, shaking the air around them like a thunder.

“THROW IT UP! FUCKING- _Ugh!”_

The two voices cried out simultaneously, with Alphonse pulling back from him and staring down in a mixture of surprise and anger. Then, his eyes slowly moved up and he gasped, mouth narrowing into a thin line while his eyes darkened so much it was almost like his pupils had melted into his scleras.

“I knew someone was playing dirty”, he growled, his features twisting into a grotesque snarl.

Andrew turned his head up with much difficulty and saw Valentine's face looking back at Alphonse, looking as surprised and confused as he himself felt. He wanted to ask him what was happening, but all he managed was a weak strangled sound around his fingers. Still, that seemed enough to bring his son's attention back to him, fingers pushing harshly against his throat and this time he couldn't hold back any longer.

He threw up all over himself and all over Valentine's hand, but that didn't seem to faze the boy in the slightest.

“There! Oh for fuck's sake- don't swallow! Throw it out! Don't hold back, I'll fucking kick you until you throw it all out if I have to!”.

Andrew didn't need more encouraging, his stomach spasming painfully as he folded up on himself and hurled everything he had in his stomach. Not much, judging by how watery it felt. At least, not much in terms of food. He could smell the alcohol even above the stench of vomit.

The whole process lasted far more than he ever wanted it to, but Valentine forced him to continue until he was dry-heaving and all he could do was to spit drool in the disgusting mess he was now drenched in. The smell was awful and the feeling was even worse, but he was too weak to even think of getting up to wash himself, his whole body still shaking in Valentine's arms even as the boy pulled out his fingers and wiped his mouth with the side of his hand.

“I hate you so much”, Valentine hissed, but he sounded much more afraid than he was angry. “You fucking piece of shit...I thought you'd fucking die! Why did you fucking do that!?”. His voice was shaking as much as it was rising, his body shuddering at seemingly random intervals. It took Andrew a few moments to realize he was hiccuping. “I didn't fucking- I didn't know what to do! I didn't know-”. He sniffled. “Why did you- I didn't... I-”.

The hiccuping turned into outright sobbing and even in his confusion and weakness Andrew couldn't help but feel horribly guilty. He didn't know for sure what just happened but he was starting to get an idea. Meanwhile his son was clinging to him, his face buried into his hair and his arms wrapped around his chest, which made Andrew wince as the filth was smeared underneath them.

“V-Valentine... I'm covered in-”

“I DON'T GARE!”, the boy yelled, clenching down harder as if he feared he'd run away from him if he loosened his grasp, fingers digging into his skin and his wet nose now rubbing against his temple. “I d-don't... blease-”. He hiccuped and then sniffled loudly. “Please don't leave... n-not like this”. He kissed his cheeks and forehead and Andrew didn't know if he should have pulled back, but the other seemed to feel his uncertainty as he glanced down at him and then looked away in shame.

“I'm sorry... I didn't want- I didn't mean to-”. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and Andrew had to hold back from scolding him. It would hardly be fair. “I d-don't actually hate you... I just- I- I didn't know... you weren't moving and I thought... I thought...” - he sniffled again - “I-I didn't want to call mom... I t-thought of calling an a-ambulance but I...” - more sniffling - “what if you didn't come back? A-and I panicked... y-you wouldn't wake up... I... I...”

He looked so small. Andrew couldn't remember when was the last time he'd seen him cry like that but he was sure it had been several years. He wanted to turn around and wipe his tears but he couldn't move, both because he was stuck in a vice-like grasp and because his body felt as if it was made of lead. Even just moving his head costed him what felt like an immense amount of effort.

“Valentine”, he whispered, his voice raspy but firm. “It's not your fault”.

He wanted him to know that much, no, _needed_ him to. No matter how angry he could have gotten at him it would be unfair to blame him for what he did. It might not have helped, but it was far from the main reason that might have driven him to think that downing an entire vial of pills was a great idea and a solution for all of his problems. He couldn't remember doing such a thing, but it wasn't hard to guess, especially after his eyes focused a bit more and he stopped seeing black spots around his vision, allowing him to see that his legs and now the floor underneath him was dotted with small white pills.

Valentine didn't respond but he squeezed him even harder, to the point where it almost made it hard to breathe until his grip relaxed again. Neither of them spoke again for a while, so Andrew listened as the other's sobs slowly quietened, feeling exhausted but knowing it would be unwise to let himself fall asleep. He had the feeling he would not wake up again if he did.

_I can't do that to him._

“Dad”, Valentine whispered after a while, his lips brushing against his shoulder.

“What is it?”. Andrew glanced back and tried to read his expression. His eyes were still puffy and reddened and his face was still dripping with snot and tears. Still, his lips twitched and curled up into a weak smile.

“You have shit taste in men”.

Andrew snorted.

_Yeah, you can say that loud._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for part 3 - A Tale of Fathers and Monsters!
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
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>   * Constructive criticism
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> I usually reply to all comments (sooner or later)! If you do not wish to have your comment replied to for any reason, please add “hush” somewhere before or after your comment and I will silently appreciate it instead ^^


	35. A Tale of Fathers and Monsters - Pt1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY HERE!
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter is an entry for the 9th edition of the COW-T by LandeDiFandom, for the third mission of week #1, using the prompt "capelli" (hair).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am alive! Sort of. This chapter was finished under the influence of much coke (...the kind that comes from a tin) and very few sleep, after a full day of work, so it did kind of kill me.   
> ~~10/10 would still do it again.~~

_Où est ton papa ?_

_Dis-moi où est ton papa ?_

_Sans même devoir lui parler_

_Il sait ce qui ne va pas._

 

_Ah sacré papa,_

_Dis-moi où es-tu caché ?_

_Ça doit, faire au moins mille fois que j'ai_

_Compté mes doigts!_

  
[Stromae – Papaoutai]

  
  


  
  


The boy stirred under the covers, pulling them down from his face and squinting at the bright sunrays peeking through the holes in the blinds. The light was annoying, but it wasn't what had woken him up.

_\- BANG! BANG! BANG! -_

There was a loud sound, or rather a series of sounds, echoing through the whole apartment.

The boy sat up on the bed and looked around, raising one hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. The small room was the same as before, with a small table and a dresser, and several cardboard boxes still occupying most of the floor. What little space was left was littered with scattered clothes.

“Mom?”, he called out, confused and drowsy.

Tilting his head to the side, he tried to listen out for any familiar noises. He could not hear her footsteps nor her voice, which lead him to the conclusion that she was not at home. Probably at work.

The loud banging continued, and now that he was fully awake he realized there was something else too.

“-y?”

A loud voice, coming from his right. Probably outside.

The boy frowned.

Someone was banging at the door.

“-dy? -me on!”

He could only hear fragments of it, so he fished his trusty stuffed lion out from under the covers and got up from the bed – which was really nothing more than a mattress covered by a worn-out sheet with a pile of blankets on top and a pillow – so that he could investigate the source of that ruckus.

He opened the door and walked into the kitchen. Much like the previous room it was small and crowded with things. The window had no curtains nor blinds to keep the sun out, so the whole room was filled with bright light. It was also filled with the lingering smell of apple and cinnamon, which made him smile brightly. His mom must have baked them a cake before leaving. He loved his mom's apple cakes.

_-BANG! BANG!-_

The loud knocking continued, and now he knew that it came from the closed door in front of him. Someone was trying to get in, but his mother wasn't there.

The boy frowned.

“Andy, please, open the door for your old man! Come on!”.

He didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded quite desperate. He looked around as if hoping his mom would be standing right there in a corner, ready to go deal with it herself, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Andy, for fuck's sake! I don't have time for this!”.

The boy looked back to the door and cringed. That man seemed really angry. He didn't want to let him in, since he was a stranger, but... was he, really? He surely seemed to know-

“ANDY! Open the damn door already!”

The sudden yell made him jump, the loud commanding tone making him grow worried. Whoever was there surely was losing his patience. What if it was really important? Could he really ignore it?

He glanced up and noticed that the chain bolt was not so high that he could not reach it. Maybe he could close that and then have a peek? Then it should have been alright, or so he hoped. It seemed better than to just wait there while the unknown man shrieked and maybe called the police or worse. What if he punched the door so much that he broke it, kinda like the wolf in that one tale with the piggies except with his fists instead of his breath?

Maybe if he told him to go away and that his mom was not there, he would leave.

Thinking that, the boy gulped loudly and rushed to close the bolt before he went to look for the door keys. He had to push a chair against a counter to get to the higher shelves, and then once he finally had them in his hands he rushed back to the door, taking some time to find the right one and slide it into the slot, all the while the man's voice got louder and angrier and his knocking more frantic.

By the time he managed to unlock the door, it was pushed open so suddenly that it felt as if it would be ripped out of its hinges. Thankfully the harsh creaking seemed to only have been an empty threat, but Andy still jumped back and clutched Leo to his chest, staring up at the unknown man in fear.

The man who stared down at him from the outside seemed just as confused as he was. For a moment he tried to push his face in to look inside the kitchen but he probably could not see much. At least he was not shouting anymore, but he still looked scary.

“I... uhm...”. The boy's voice was soft and hesitant, his fingers digging into the fabric of the plush toy. “Hello”.

The man looked at him in surprise, bushy eyebrows furrowing over his sharp blue eyes. He didn't look familiar, but he didn't seem to be angry anymore. That was a bit relieving.

The boy waited for him to say anything, but the man only stared down in silence. It was really intimidating, to the point where he was starting to regret his decision. Still, he did not want to be rude, so he gulped loudly again and tried to smile. His mom always said he should smile when meeting someone. It was rude to just stare, so this man was being really rude, but just because someone else was being rude it did not mean you should be too. That was also something she said.

“Uhm... my mom is at work”, the boy said after a while, hoping that the man would just leave. He didn't seem like a bad guy but he still felt rather concerned. He didn't know him after all and he wasn't saying a word. If he was looking for her surely he would come back later, right?

“Your... your mom?”, the man asked, and his eyebrows lifted up almost comically, but the boy was far too intimidated to even think of laughing at him. “Who-”

  
  


  
  


  
  


“-are you and what have you done to our son?”, Angela joked, while Valentine rolled his eyes in response.

“I'm gonna go now. I have homework to do”, the boy said, turning around and heading upstairs.

“He really did all this by himself?”, she asked, gesturing towards the freshly cleaned kitchen.

Andrew shrugged. “Mostly”. He did clean some of the dishes, but most of the work had in fact been done by his son.

“What did you bribe him with?”

“Nothing really. He's been quite good in these days, helping around and keeping things sorted. He's even tried to cook a few times”.

Angela let out a small humming noise of both surprise of approval as she walked up to him, placing her hands on his shoulders and slowly caressing his back, slipping under his shirt.

“And you?”, she asked, her fingernails raking against his skin as her voice grew huskier. “Have you been a good boy while I was away?”.

Andrew felt his own breath hitch, his body shaken by a warm shiver. He couldn't bring himself to answer, and then she leaned in closer to bite on his earlobe, making him hiss in both pain and pleasure.

“I-I tried”, he gasped, not wanting to spoil the moment. It had been so long since she held him like that, or at least that was how it felt. The much shorter hug she gave him when she first came back didn't really count.

He could hardly believe she'd been gone for less than a week. If he thought of how much of a mess he'd been and how terrified that she'd never come back at all...

“You don't sound very convincing”, she said, chuckling as he swallowed hard at the statement. “Maybe I can be a better judge?”.

Andrew didn't ask what she meant but he was pretty sure he could get the idea, and from the way his own body was responding he was also sure she could tell he wasn't against going along with whatever she had in mind.

Angela chuckled at that and pulled out her hands from his shirt. “Let's go to our room. Wouldn't want to mess up the kitchen again, now, would we?”

  
  


They got to the bed so fast it felt like a matter of seconds, their hands struggling to pull off three layers of clothing at once until they finally gave up and started to peel off each one at a time, laughing when her camisole got tangled up with her hair before she could undo her top knot.

“Don't”, she scolded him when he tried to unclasp her bra, grasping on his hands and bringing them back to the front. Her fingers brushed against the dried up patches of skin on them and he stiffened, but she made no comment on it. She only brought them up to her face and kissed them softly, then she placed his palms on her own breasts. The fabric of her bra felt smooth and pleasant, the silver satin and black lace standing out against her pale skin.

“Do you like it?”, she asked, her breathing growing heavier as his hands groped her before moving down along her ribs, travelling towards her hips and ass. She was wearing matching panties and long silver-glittered black stockings with black lace hems. She quite literally sparkled, making her look even more radiant than usual. Andrew couldn't take his eyes off of her, much less his hands.

“You're beautiful”, he said, slipping them underneath her panties to cup her buttocks, but once again she pulled them back.

“Don't”, she whispered, grasping on his hair and giving it a sharp tug. “Not until you show me you've earned it”.

Andrew swallowed hard and nodded, letting himself be pushed against the mattress while she climbed on top of him, taking his wrists and placing them besides his head.

“Don't move”, she commanded, then crawled aside to retrieve something from underneath the bed, her panties riding up and exposing more of her ass as she did so. He had to suppress another urge to grab on it, determined to show her his resolve.

But man, it was so hard to be patient already when he'd been waiting for it that whole time. His boxers were already starting to feel uncomfortably tight.

“You know, there was a very interesting workshop not too far from the exhibit”, she said, pulling out a shoebox and placing it on his chest. It felt rather light, but he could tell it was not empty. “I've been looking up stuff by myself before, but it's quite different to see it in person”. She took the top off and carefully placed it aside, before taking out a bundle of white rope and holding it out so he could see it. “That's also where I got this”.

Andrew's heart beat faster, the memory of that book he caught in the hands of Valentine flashing back to him.

“We can stop here if you don't want to”, she said, her tone still carrying a teasing note, but he knew it was her way to ask for his permission.

“No”, he said, feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation as she started to unroll it.

While it wasn't unusual for her to tease him or take the lead in the bedroom, ordering him around and playing with him to her heart's content, it never had actually involved anything like that yet. Somehow, it felt like crossing a line. Still, it would be a lie to say he had never fantasized about that sort of thing, especially after finding out about that book.

“What do you say if it gets too much?”, she asked, taking one of his wrists and placing it against the headboard.

He promptly answered, “red”.

She smiled.

“Good boy”.

She worked fast, using the first bundle of nylon rope to secure his arms to the bed and make sure he couldn't get free on his own, then she used another one to create a symmetrical pattern on his body.

He followed her instructions when she told him to shift his body up or to the side, warning her whenever the ropes were pinching his skin in an uncomfortable manner.

Once she was content with her results, she took a few moments to stare down at him with a satisfied expression, and Andrew couldn't help but feel a little bit anxious at the thought of being tied up like a pork roast in front of her. Not so much because he was worried of what she might do to him as much as because he feared he would look ridiculous and she might laugh.

“You should see yourself”, Angela said, and there wasn't any hint of mockery in her voice, if anything she sounded quite eager. “All wrapped up like a present... now I can't help but wonder what's in the package”.

Her hand suddenly cupped his balls and he gasped, arching up a little as if to push himself towards her touch. He was still wearing his boxers, his crotch slightly squeezed by the ropes around it. He had expected it to feel a lot more constricting and uncomfortable, but it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, in a weird way it almost felt... comforting? As if his whole body was being held by her, even as her hands left his body. He found he quite liked that.

“You're already so hard... you must have been holding back, or maybe you _really_ like this play”, she mused, crawling on top of him but being careful to make sure she barely touched him as she did so. Her hairdo had started to come undone, in their previous enthusiasm they must have loosened the tie. He could feel a few stray strands brushing against his chest, sending warm shivers down his spine.

He tried to lean in closer with his face to kiss her, but her hand slipped through his hair again to pull him down, before she claimed his mouth in a forceful kiss. He could feel her hold tighten as he kissed her back, her teeth biting down on his lip before letting go whenever she pulled back to breathe, only to kiss him again with renewed hunger. By the time she stopped and sat up, resting her ass against his straining erection, his lips felt raw and a bit swollen and he was panting heavily.

“Breathe in. You're going to need your breath for what comes next”, she teased, moving aside so she could pull down her panties and throw them off the bed.

He didn't have to ask to know what she meant, looking at her eagerly as she climbed back on top of him until her legs were resting at the sides of his face. He pulled on the ropes by instinct as usually he would hold on to her as she straddled his face, but in that moment he was completely helpless.

“I'm going to hold your hand. If you can't breathe, I'm going to need you to squeeze hard so that I can know”, she said, and he nodded. He could already see and smell her arousal, her wet folds glistening with it, and the sight made him even harder as well.

He took a deep breath as she descended, opening his mouth to lick her as soon as she pressed herself against him. She took one of his hands in hers, using her other one to hold on to the headboard so that she could crouch down without pressing her knees against his arms and risk to cut off their circulation.

Andrew could tell that position would get uncomfortable rather quickly, so she would not be able to keep it up for too long. That only made him more determined, so he tried to compensate for his lack of mobility by making good use of his tongue, parting her folds with it to taste more of her salt-watery nectar and running it back and forth along her vulva before focusing his efforts on her clit when he heard her moan. He started slow and steady, picking up the pace as she grunted and urged him to do it more and trying to stick to the same pattern once she started to cry out louder. While she had said he could warn her he didn't want to interrupt things mid-way, so he did his best to breathe out of his mouth or angle his face so that he could still breathe when she started to ride his face, wanting to do his best to make her cum before she tired her legs out.

Unfortunately it seemed like the pose was too straining for her, so she had to pull back before she managed to finish, sitting aside and catching her breath while he did the same, his face half-covered in her juices.

“You didn't cum”, he said once his breath had steadied, feeling and sounding a bit dejected.

“You did a good job”, she replied, moving his hair away from his face and brushing it gently with his fingers. “Besides, we aren't finished. Can you still feel your fingers?”.

He wiggled them for a few moments. “Yeah”.

“Alright then. Now it's my time to play”.

She gave him a devious smirk before moving in closer towards his hips, grasping on his boxers and tearing them open.

He was a bit shocked by that, barely managing to hold back from blurting out a protest.

_I liked those!_ , he thought, but he also really, _really_ didn't want her to stop her from doing whatever she wanted to do now that she finally was focusing on his neglected erection.

She laid to her side, resting her face against his chest and moving her hand down to caress his pubes, fingers ghosting just right above his cock.

“How many times did you touch yourself?”, she asked, her tongue darting out to lick one of his nipples.

“I-ah! I... didn't...”.

“Hmm”. She moved her tongue in circle, closing her mouth on his nipple and sucking hard on it before biting down.

“Ah!”

“Are you sure?”, she insisted, wrapping her hand around the base of his cock and squeezing almost painfully. Rather than wilting down, however, it seemed to grow even harder, twitching slightly as she lightly nibbled on his sensitive flesh.

“I-I didn't!”, he cried out, and it wasn't a lie, was it? He hadn't-

_Not by myself._

He couldn't help but feel guilty as he thought so, but it was hard to focus on his self-loathing when her hand moved along his shaft, her thumb circling along the crown and against his slit.

_God, I want it so bad._

“Well, judging from _this_ , I guess you must be pretty backed up”, she conceded, before moving again to rest her hips against his, rubbing herself against his length.

_Finally_ , he thought, anxiously awaiting to feel her warmth envelop him, but against his expectations she only kept moving back and forth in at a maddening slow pace, covering his cock with her slick fluids without letting it inside.

“Please”, he begged, but she did not even increase her pace, grinning as she saw him writhe helplessly underneath him, his arms pulling against the ropes.

“I don't know, I'm not quite decided yet”, she said, chuckling as she heard him whine in response. Placing a hand on the mattress to hold her weight, she used the other one to stroke him in time with her movements, smearing her fluids along his length.

She merely kept on rubbing herself against him for a while, and Andrew soon found himself whining and trying to thrust back against her. There was a brief moment where she moved up and her slit angled with the tip of his cock, but just when he thought she would finally give him what he wanted she instead shifted back and sat on his thighs, using her weight to hold him down as she stroked him.

“Whatever shall I do?”, she said, her mischievous tone making it clear that it wasn't actually a question, or at least not one directed to him. Her hand moved down along his crotch, massaging his balls and his perineum, and for a moment he felt her fingers brush down even lower, which made his breath hitch. He couldn't help but shiver, his skin covered in goosebumps as the contact sparked up something inside him, a sudden instinctive thought coming over him.

_Is... is she?_

He held his breath, hid mind briefly flashing back to the memory... or rather, it wasn't quite a memory, and he really shouldn't be thinking back to that but-

“What's that?”, she asked, interrupting his chain of thoughts. “Does this feel good?”.

Her fingers brushed back there again and Andrew bit his lip, unsure of how to feel about the fact that his cock twitched and he felt a weird sort of longing ache when she did that.

“I... I don't-”, he whispered. “I don't know”.

“Hmm?”. She tilted her head and moved her hand away, collecting more of her wetness before her fingers moved down below his balls, massaging the sensitive skin there and then going down even lower again, lightly pressing against his entrance.

“Do you... do you want it there?”, she asked in a gentler tone, and he couldn't bring himself to answer.

_Oh God. Oh God, I...I do, but... fuck!_

He gasped when he felt one of her fingers slide in, the sensation weird and foreign but not fully unwelcome. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to do, and above all he wasn't sure of what it said about him that he didn't immediately call out his safeword.

_I shouldn't... oh, oh God, why am I-_

“Ah!”. He cried out loud when her finger brushed something inside him that turned his legs into jelly. “O-oh fuck...”.

“ _'Fuck'_ is not an answer”, she said, leaning down to kiss him on his hip, one strand of hair brushing against his cock and he wasn't sure it hadn't been on purpose, but at that point it was far from the only thing that left him confused.

“What do you say if it gets too much?”, she asked, and he knew the answer, he knew but his mind was a complete mess and his body couldn't seem to decide on whether it wanted more or whether it wanted it to stop. “Andrew...what do you say?”

“I-I don't... I don't know!”, he cried out, his body shaking as he tried to focus on something, anything but the growing panic and confusion. “I don't know, I don't know, I-I do-on't...”.

He was hyperventilating by that point, his vision blurred and he didn't realize that he was crying until she was back to his side and holding him tight, her hand pulling down on his hair.

“Andy... Andy it's ok. I'm going to stop now. Deep breaths. It's alright.”

“I-I... I'm sorry I-” he tried to explain, but she silenced him with the same hand. Thankfully not the one she had used to-

“It's ok, you don't have to be sorry. You've been really good. Now please, try to breathe deeply for me. Ok?”

Her tone was soothing, but it didn't fully ease his worry that he might have done something wrong. Still, he followed her words as she insisted, telling him to breathe and relax, until his body slowly stopped shaking and his breath slowed down enough for him to stop feeling dizzy.

“I'm sorry I didn't check up on you sooner. You were so cute I couldn't help but want to tease you more”, she said, caressing his hair again as he looked away, feeling a bit embarrassed for losing control like that. He couldn't remember the last time he freaked out like that in front of her, especially not during sex. He also felt kind of stupid for not stopping things sooner, but he wasn't sure he had actually wanted to.

It was just...

_I couldn't._

“I'm going to untie you now. Are you good? Do you need something first?”.

“I...”. He took a deep breath and then swallowed, moving his fingers with some difficulty. “I'm a bit numb”.

“That was a bit too much too, wasn't it? I won't draw things out so long the next time”, she said, before quickly adding. “If you want to, try again I mean”.

“Yeah”. He smiled weakly, looking back at her even if he was sure that his face was probably a complete mess. “I'm... I think I'm fine now. I just, I need some water”.

“Sure, give me a moment”.

She untied him as fast as she could, freeing his arms fist before getting rid of the ropes on the rest of his body. As she did so, he idly thought about the fact that neither of them got to finish, but even if he was still hard he wasn't sure of whether he would be able to.

“There”, she said after she was done putting the ropes away, getting up to retrieve a water bottle from her nightstand and helping him sit up so he could drink without choking. “Are you ok?”.

“I'm fine”, he said, then he sighed. “I'm just... embarrassed. I didn't mean to freak out”.

Angela shook her head.

“I'm the one who fucked up. I guess I got a bit overenthusiastic... I forgot to take things slow. I've never been this careless before, so, actually that's a lot more embarrassing”.

He chuckled at that, although he was not quite so sure of what he found funny about it. At least it helped him calm down his nerves.

“Let's take a shower”, she proposed, which sounded like a great idea to him, so he was more than happy to comply.

The combination of the warm water and some idle chattering seemed to work well to get them both to relax, and soon enough Andrew felt his leftover tension dissolving in her embrace.

He hadn't meant to do anything more than get cleaned up and go to sleep at first, but the more he eased up the more he felt his previous desire come back with a vengeance.

It seemed like the distance hadn't left her indifferent either, judging from the way she moaned and eagerly followed his movements as he took her there, pressing her body against the tiles and touching her all over. She didn't climax with him, but she held him close as he pulled out and touched her, slowly bringing her to her orgasm and kissing her once she finally came.

“The water is getting cold”, was the first thing she said after that, which prompted them both to chuckle and hurry out so they could dry up and go to bed.

They had both slipped under the covers and Andrew had already closed his eyes, ready to put that day to rest, when Angela groaned loudly and sighed.

“Andy, your pills”.

“Ugh”. He huffed, but forced himself to sit up and pour himself a glass of water. He opened up the small bottle and took out a pill as she watched, patting him on his shoulder while he put it in his mouth and then emptied the glass, grimacing from the unpleasant taste.

“Good boy”, she said, before getting back down and turning around, waiting for him to join her.

“I'll be right back. I need the toilet again”.

“Hmh. Alright. I won't wait awake”.

Andrew looked at her for a few moments before turning off the light, walking out to reach the bathroom.

The taste didn't leave his mouth even as he pushed it out from underneath his tongue and spit it out, grimacing again as he flushed it down the toilet.

_It's gonna be ok. I don't need that shit._

Everything was fine now. His family was all he needed after all. It was going to be alright.

Everything was going to be fine.

He was sure.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a bit guilty asking for comments after how long I've made everyone wait. I really have no explanation for that beyond stress from work and an annoying case of writer's block. I kept trying to work on this and it just wouldn't get out. I couldn't feel the same connection to it, maybe I was not in the best headspace, or maybe it was just that I was anxious to fuck things up since everything is going to start to come together soon, as least in theory, so that made it even harder. 
> 
> I also know that as much as you can love something, after a while it gets grating to wait and it's only normal to move on to something else. So I do not know how many of you are still here for this, but I've decided I would finish this, and I will. As I said, it feels wrong to ask for comments, but if you want to support me feedback does help with motivation. It would be a lie to say it was not a part of what made me want to come back to this as soon as possible.
> 
> That is all for now. No promises for the next part in terms of time, but I don't plan to get stuck again if I can help it.
> 
> PS: Lyrics/Translation for the quote (and the rest of the song) can be found here: [ x ](https://frenchcrazy.com/2014/10/papaoutai-english-translation-stromae.html/)


	36. A Tale of Fathers and Monsters - pt2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raindrops keep falling on my head... ♫
> 
> I swear I did not intend for this story to be so heavily weather themed when I first started it.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is an entry for the 9th edition of the COW-T by LandeDiFandom, for the second mission of week #2, using the prompt "pioggia" (rain).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's got two thumbs and a 38 degrees fever lmao.  
> I'm not sure how I even wrote this. Maybe the virus took over halfway through. 
> 
> This is one of those chapters I've been looking forward to writing because I've had the scene in mind for ages (it was originally supposed to be in part 2).
> 
> Also wheee, for once I'm almost following the old schedule! Except I am not posting on weekends for a while because ~~I'm also using these for a writing challenge and my team gets less point the closest it is to Saturday~~ reasons.

 

It was night when Andrew was woken up by the sudden, most unpleasant feeling as if something cold was crawling down his back.

He woke up with a startle, and what he saw did nothing to ease his initial shock.

The sky above him was pitch black, with only a few stars to be seen, as if the others didn't dare to show themselves, while the moon was little more than a thin slice. A water drop fell down on his cheek as he looked up, and then another, and one again in quick succession until the rain started to pour down on him like a cold shower.

The deep rumble that followed reminded Andrew of-

_The engine of his..._

-things he'd rather forget, but what really made him panic was the realization that he had no idea of where he was, no idea of how he came there, and nothing to cover him up from the rain except his boxers.

_What the-_

He froze, and not only because of the cold.

He'd walked out again.

_But why?_

Things had gotten better, his wife was back and he had gotten a handle on things even before then. So why was this happening again?

Another thunder shook him from his half-dazed state, reminding him of his current predicament. Regardless of how and why he had gotten there, if he kept on just standing there and getting drenched he was going to freeze to death or at the very least get very sick very quickly.

He was shivering already, the wind slowly growing in intensity and slowing up his pace. There was another sound he could hear, beyond the rumbling and the howling and the pittering all around him. It took him a while to realize it was music once he was finally close enough to recognize its tunes.

_A bar? Maybe a club? Maybe I can ask for help there._

At the very least he'd reasoned that they'd be able to give him indications, so he moved in that direction as rapidly as his feet could take him. His slippers were not making his task any easier, at least not now that they were soaked in water, but he couldn't complain too much. At least he hadn't cut his feet on anything along the way thanks to them.

As he finally arrived at his destination he gasped, only then realizing that in fact, he had been there before.

_Son of a... of all places, why this one?_

That was the bar where Valentine had sneaked in rather than studying with his so-called-friend Mike. He'd only seen it from outside and in passing, but he was sure of it. Now that he looked carefully he could recognize the area.

_Well then. Guess I've got no choice._

He could have tried to reach another place, but he was already shaking like a leaf in the wind and that wasn't exactly the safest area to be wandering around at night.

_Then again I doubt I'd get mugged since I've got literally nothing on me,_ Andrew thought with a sort of morbid humour before pushing the door open.

The loud mixture of chattering and music was the first thing to assault his senses, followed by the bright colorful lights that gave the place a sort of festive feel. Inside, the place wasn't huge but it was crowded, and once he stepped inside it didn't take long for some of them to stare and gape in surprise.

Much to his embarrassment, he could see quite a few of the patrons were laughing while some others were giving him a sort of look that made him shiver, and not from the cold.

“My, my!” a loud, high-pitched voice suddenly pierced through his brain as somebody grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. He stiffened and turned to protest, but the sight was enough to shut him up from the sheer surprise.

The... individual who was guiding him through the crowd and towards an empty stool by the bar was quite tall, also thanks to the help of a pair of bright red stiletto heels. Not to mention fairly strong, if the pressure on his arm and the size of those biceps was any indication. This shocking vision was clad in a glittering red dress and was wearing the biggest pair of earrings that Andrew had ever seen in his life, outside maybe of photos or documentaries of African tribes.

“That's quite the daring look even for a place like this, love,” the stranger said in the same falsetto voice as before. “Oh my, but you are drenched. Here, take this.”

Under normal circumstances, Andrew probably would have rejected the black fur stole that was placed on his shoulders, but as it was he was too shocked and also too cold to protest.

“Thanks...” he murmured, trying not to stare too much at the other's painted face. He was not quite sure of how to address this newfound acquaintance, as the long hair and make-up and overall presentation said lady, but the rest of his appearance coupled with the forced falsetto made it hard for him not to think there had to be a rather bulky dude underneath all that.

“So, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” the stranger asked with an exaggerated flutter of eyelashes, followed by a rapid furrowing of eyebrows. “Wait, haven't I-”

Andrew didn't have the time to reply before the other's face was far too close to his own for his liking. Then again, there was something about it that seemed kind of familiar.

“Murray!” the other gasped and jumped back, the gigantic earrings shaking along with the dramatic gesture. “You're Andy Murray!” His voice lowered to a normal pitch, sounding a lot more masculine.

“I... am? But I'm not sure wh-”

“Josh Collins. I was in your class,” Josh smiled sheepishly and pulled his wig off, at which point it finally clicked for Andrew. Small guy, much smaller than he looked now, kind of flamboyant and rumoured to be gay. He hadn't exactly been friends with him but then again he hadn't really been friends with anyone from there.

“Josh... yeah, I remember.” Andrew said, scratching his head and wondering what would be the most polite way to go about asking the obvious. “You're... uhm, still going by Josh?”.

“Hm? Oh, yeah! Well in here I'm mostly known as Sasha Lamour,” the other man said, putting his wig back on and winking. “This is just work though, I don't normally go around like this. Speaking of which, my show just finished. You should have come earlier!”

“I... uhm, not to be rude or anything but actually I'm not... I just happened to pass by and I'd... I need to get back home,” Andrew said, still shivering as the stole didn't exactly do much to warm up the lower half of his body. At least there was no wind in there.

“What even happened to you? Did you get robbed?”

“I... uhm, no I...” Damn, it sounded awkward to say it out loud, especially to a random acquaintance that he hadn't seen in years. “I sleepwalked.”

“Whaaat?! For real?” Josh's voice was so loud it caused a few other patrons to turn around and look at them, which only added to the feeling of awkwardness. “You're gonna catch something if you stay like this... hold on.”

The drag queen leaned on the counter, towards someone or something beyond Andrew's back. “Hey darling, how about you help this cutie out instead of staring another hole through his ass?”

Andrew turned bright red at that statement and immediately turned around, catching the embarrassed stare of a man who was looking like he wanted to bury himself under the ground, while a few others around him laughed their ass off.

“I'm- wasn't...” the man mumbled as he got closer, taking off his jacket and offering it to Andrew. “Say, do you... would you mind having a drink with me?”

“Sorry, I can't drink,” Andrew automatically replied, albeit that wasn't entirely correct anymore. Still, something told him that was not the best place to get drunk, starting from the stare from a few of the men who eyed him up and down like a wolf that smelled fresh meat.

“Haven't I seen you before?” one of them said, walking forward to sit closer to him.

Andrew hurried to close up the borrowed jacket, pulling the zipper up to his chin.

“Piss off. He's my friend.” Josh intervened, putting his stole back on and wrapping his arm around Andrew. As uncomfortable as he felt about being held like that by someone he barely knew, at the moment he couldn't help but be grateful for it.

This, however, didn't seem to dissuade the man, who licked his lips and put his thumbs in his waistband as he leaned forward.

“Why don't you introduce me to your friend then, Sasha?”

Josh, however, didn't seem to be intimidated. His lips curved up into a large smirk and he also leaned forward to say: “honey, he has standards.”

The man's face turned a deep red color as he processed the insult, the other men once again howling with laughter.

“Let's get away from these creeps,” Josh told him, guiding him somewhere else again. Andrew wasn't sure he wanted to be walking around like that in that place, as the jacket only barely covered his ass and left the entirety of his legs exposed. Then again he also didn't want to be around that guy in case he got mad about getting humiliated in front of his peers.

“You need to go home, right? I've got to collect my cash and get changed first, but I can give you a ride,” Josh said as he made him sit at a table in front of a small stage. “You see that guy behind the counter? His name is Luke.” The crossdresser pointed a long, bright red fingernail in the direction of a huge man wearing a bright pink tank top, his pecs barely covered by the flimsy-looking fabric. “If you need something or if anyone gives you any trouble, you tell Luke. I'll be back soon.”

Andrew watched as Josh went to speak with Luke, who turned towards him and gave a small nod. Despite the other's reassuring words he couldn't help but swallow hard, thinking that was definitely a man he would not want to piss off.

Still, at the moment there was something else weighting on his mind, besides the worry about getting back home unscathed and without letting Angela know of his little adventure – not so much because of the sort of place he was in, he was sure she'd get a good laugh out of that. He simply didn't want her to worry about what might have happened if the rain hadn't woken him up.

“ _Haven't I seen you before?”_

The idea that Valentine had been there, surrounded by a bunch of horny men who no doubt would be swarming around was driving him mad. Did nobody realize he shouldn't have been there? Did Valentine not realize what sort of place that was?

_Of course, he did. That's most likely why he came here._

It was not so much the fact that it was a gay bar, but everyone there looked like they were about his age if not older. The fact that Valentine would be... experimenting with his friend was something he could accept, but the thought of some old pervert laying his paws on his kid was enough to make his blood boil.

Speaking of old perverts, Andrew was doing his best to mind his own business and ignore everyone else when another man suddenly sat down in front of him. He looked up at him with a look that said “piss off,” but then his eyes widened in shock as he realized, he knew that guy.

Or rather, that wasn’t quite the case, more like he’d seen the guy before. He was the same damn bastard that chased after Valentine that one time.

“Look who came back here,” the man said, his voice slurred from one drink too many. “Hey, baby. Thought I’d never see you again. D’you want… another drink?”

Andrew clenched his fists under the table, holding back from punching that bastard as soon as he opened his mouth. Now that he could look at him from up close he could tell he was definitely way too old to be even thinking of chasing after someone of his son’s age. He looked like he was at least in his mid-forties if not even his fifties.

“What did you get me last time?” he asked, forcing himself to keep a calm, neutral tone.

The older man frowned and scratched his hair.

“Beer?” he proposed, getting up and walking to the counter. He looked even more wasted than the last time, at least judging from his staggering.

Andrew got up and followed him there, not trusting him not to try and do anything funky to his drink.

“Cheers!” the man said as soon as they both had a glass in their hand.

“Cheers,” he replied, clenching his hand around the thick glass and hitting the other's a little too hard. Not that the bastard seemed to notice.

The man downed half of his glass in one gulp while Andrew slowly sipped his, trying to plan his next move. He didn't know what he was trying to achieve, so that made things considerably harder.

“I know I might not have been a gentleman last time,” the other man said, spilling some of his beer on the counter as he waved his hand in Andrew's direction. “I don't like to be lead on, y'see? Just pisses me the fuck off.”

“I see.”

Andrew did his best to contain his emotions as he stared at him, but his body was vibrating from the growing anger he felt towards that miserable, selfish bastard, especially as the old man's sweaty hand was placed against his knee.

_You fucking creep_ , he thought, clenching his teeth as he smiled and leaned in closer.

“Why don't we-,” he whispered, his blood thumping in his ears like a war drum as his lips lightly brushed his ear. “-bring this outstairs?”

The other man shuddered, and from that distance Andrew could hear his breath speed up, could even feel him perspire as his body heat increased. He smelled like alcohol and smoke, just like Valentine did that time, and the thought of that bastard touching his sweet kid and leaving his stink on him was far more than he could take.

“Out here?” the man asked, his voice clearly betraying his arousal almost as much as his grasp on Andrew's thigh. “Oh you're a kinky one, babe.”

The blood coursing through Andrew's ears was so loud he could barely still hear the music.

“Oh, yeah,” he practically purred, copying the way Angela spoke to him whenever she wanted to tease him. “You have no idea.”

  
  


In the time it took for that old pervert to finish his beer and pay, and then practically drag him outside, Andrew had formulated the closest thing his raging brain could come up that resembled a plan.

Namely, get that piece of shit out of sight and then punch his head in, so maybe the next time he would think twice before pursuing a fucking high schooler.

Of course, there were a couple of flaws in his plans. One of these being that while the other was an old fart who was drunk off his ass, he was also significantly taller and bigger than him. Still, that alone would not have spelled failure for him.

The second and far more troublesome one, as he soon realized once his first punch did not have the desired effect, was that the man's drunken state prevented him from feeling the full effect of his hit. In fact, the other merely looked at him with a sort of obtuse surprise on his face before grinning.

“Oh, is that how you like to play?” he asked, slamming him against the wall and pressing his face against his in an attempt to force him into a slobbering kiss.

Andrew struggled against his hold, biting the man's tongue until he tasted blood. That at least seemed to get him to pull back, albeit his lips were still spread into a leering grin.

“Should've told me ya liked to play rough,” he said, grasping on his wrists and leaning in to lick on his cheek, leaving a trail of foul-smelling saliva on it.

Andrew felt the panic surging inside him together with his rage, and didn't waste time before he hit him in the face with his own forehead, headbutting him as hard as he could.

There was a cracking sound and then the man jumped back with a pained groan, covering his face with his hands as the blood started dripping from his broken nose.

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself you fucking old creep!” Andrew hissed, grasping on the nearest blunt object he could find - which happened to be a trashcan lid - and throwing it at him at full force.

Any trace of amusement was now fully gone from the older man's face, which was now twisted into a mask of rage.

“You fucking slut!” he hissed, moving his hands away from his face to lunge at him again, only for Andrew to kick him in the stomach, hard enough to make him hurl the entire content of his stomach on the asphalt.

Andrew stared down at him with disgust, the man's twitching movements and the vile substance he was spewing reminding him of an overgrown cockroach that had just been squashed.

Thinking that, he struggled against the urge to grasp the heavy lid again and bash him in the head with it until he stopped moving, much like one would do with one of those disgusting creatures.

“You better stay far away from my child,” he said, catching his breath and grimacing as his nose was hit by a wave of the other's stench. “Far away from him and any other kid less than half your age.”

The third and most dangerous factor that Andrew had not considered was the fact that the bastard was not only pissed off and drunk enough to assault him, but he also had a hidden ace up his sleeve.

Or rather, a switchblade, which he pulled out of his jacket in one surprisingly smooth movement.

“I don't know what the fuck you're going on about, you bitch, but now you're going to fucking pay!” the man growled, the sharp blade glistening under the faint moonlight.

Andrew felt all color drain from his face as the other approached him again, suddenly realizing just how much trouble he'd gotten himself in.

He cursed himself for his stupidity, his mind rapidly trying to find a way to get himself out of there. His first instinct was to run, but he didn't get far before the other managed to grab onto his jacket and hold him back, forcing him against the wall again with his whole weight. When he tried to struggle again he soon felt the cold pressure of the blade against his neck, causing him to freeze in place.

“That'll teach you not to be such a fucking cocktease,” the man growled into his ear, pressing his groin against his ass. Andrew could feel the man's arousal through the faint barrier of his boxers and his blood turned to ice, his mind desperately trying to find something, anything that could get him out of there before the bastard could enact his silent threat.

“Let me go!” he hissed, but the only response to that was for the blade to move up higher and press against the top of his throat. A sharp, stinging pain blossomed after the sudden pressure, making him hold his breath in fear the other might accidentally cut him.

The other's hand moved to pull down his boxers, exposing his still-drenched skin to the cold air of the night. Andrew clenched his fists, his arms raised at the sides of his head from before, still pressing against the wall he was slammed against to keep his face from hitting and scraping against the rough surface.

_I've got to get away!_

His panic was increasing by the second, his breath growing more and more frantic. His head was starting to spin and he feared he would faint there, the thought of losing consciousness while in the hands of that deranged pervert making his fear and desperation grow to the point where he was sure he would lose control and do something stupid, but he couldn't manage to calm himself down.

Then, just when he thought he was about to snap, it all happened at once.

It went so fast that he could barely notice it. One moment that creep was rubbing himself against him like a dog in heat season, the next one he was pulled away from him and he could hear a loud bang as the man was thrown against the nearby trashcan.

“If you want to stick your cock somewhere so badly, try something more in your league.”

_Alphonse?!_

Hearing that familiar voice was almost as much of a shock as the fact that he'd just narrowly escaped a very grim outcome. He turned around and sure enough, Alphonse was standing there, a cigarette in his hand and a look of mild annoyance on his face.

“What- what are you doing here?”

Alphonse merely raised an eyebrow, taking a long drag out of his cigarette before replying.

“I should be the one asking that question.” He eyed him up and down, prompting Andrew to immediately pull up his underwear. “I'm not the one that’s married.”

Andrew gritted his teeth. He really didn't want to get into an argument at the moment, and he didn't have the nerves nor the will to even attempt to keep things civil.

Before he could even think of what to reply, however, a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he felt his stomach clench as he turned his gaze on it.

“Al! Watch o-”

He didn't have the time to finish his warning before the man attacked, but Alphonse didn't seem to need it. With almost inhuman speed, he intercepted the attack and disarmed him, twisting his arm behind his back until the man groaned in pain and let go of his weapon. Still, Alphonse didn't stop until the man's shoulder popped out of its socket, which caused the man to start screaming like a wounded animal.

“Trash like you just never learns, does it,” Alphonse growled, letting the man fall to the ground only to kick him in the stomach, pushing with his heel on his chest to force him to turn around once the poor bastard was laying there and panting.

Andrew watched like in a daze as Alphonse picked up the switchblade and grasped on the older man's hair, forcing him to expose his throat.

“That's a dangerous toy you have here,” Alphonse said, his tone low and threatening. “Especially in the wrong hands.”

The blade slowly descended as the man struggled and screamed, and Andrew could do nothing but stare in horror, frozen in place by his own fear.

_No no no, don't, you can't, YOU CAN'T-_

“Andy!”

A sudden voice pierced the silence, followed by a loud series of footsteps. The man that suddenly appeared in the alley looked almost unrecognizable without his wig and garish dress, but his voice was the same.

“Andy are you alr-.”

Josh jumped up in shock at the scene, but before any of them could say a word, Alphonse was suddenly gone.

Andrew's eyes darted around in search of a sign of his escape, but there was none. One second he was there, the next one he wasn't, gone in the blink of an eye.

Looking back at Josh and at the man lying on the floor, it seemed like neither of the two were sure of what to make of what they just saw.

Well, judging by the smell of piss that filled the air and the liquid pooling up underneath the drunken man's pants, Andrew could at least safely assume he hadn't imagined everything.

“Josh...” he called out, unsure of what to even say.

“Andy, what on earth are you even doing out here?!” Josh finally snapped out of his reverie and walked up to him in order to drag him away and back inside the bar. “I've been looking for you everywhere, and then Luke tells me you went out with that old fart. What the hell?!”

“He tried to get his hands on my son,” Andrew replied, the thought sparkling back an inkling of his previous anger.

“Well if he's as cute as you, no wonder he has fans.”

“He's in _high school_.”

“Well then... that's a whole other matter.” Josh guided him towards the main entrance and gave him a stern look. “ _Don't move._ I mean it! I've had enough heart attacks for one evening. I'm just going to get my money and then we'll be out of here.”

Andrew would have wanted to say that he could look after himself, but the events of that night clearly didn't help his argument, so he kept his mouth shut and watched as the man strutted back towards the hulking mass of muscles behind the counter.

He was starting to feel exhausted, and not just due to his lack of sleep. He realized he was still shaking, and he doubted it was only because of the cold.

_What I saw... I couldn't have imagined it, right? That guy saw him too._ And Josh as well, albeit he wasn't so sure he would have wanted to admit it. He didn't know how it could be possible, but Alphonse had been there, and it was only thanks to him if he didn't get fucked in the most literal sense.

And yet...

He couldn't help but think back to the way Alphonse had picked up the knife, at the way his eyes almost seemed to light up as he threatened to cut that man's throat.

If Josh hadn't gotten there at the right moment, would he have...?

He shuddered.

_And I would have done nothing to stop it._

Back then, he'd been sure it had only been his fear that kept him from moving, but now?

His mind went back to the moment where he'd fought the urge to bash his head open, to put an end to his miserable existence with his own hands.

Was it pity that stopped him then? Had he been thinking about that pervert's sake, or was it rather that he didn't want to end up in jail nor live his whole life with that weight on his conscience.

But if _Alphonse_ had done it, well, it would have been out of his hands.

_Maybe I didn't stop him because..._

“Because I didn't want to,” he whispered, swallowing the hard lump in his throat.

  
  


“Don't mind the mess, I don't really have a place to store my stuff at the bar,” Josh said as he opened the passenger door and threw a couple bags in the back, followed by a stray wig.

As Andrew sat beside him and watched him start the engine, he was surprised by how different he seemed in normal clothes. Now he could really recognize the shy, insecure boy that he'd known at school in the man's features, even though his attitude had drastically changed and his body also went from chubby and awkwardly shaped to lean and muscular.

“I'm really glad you were there. I would have been completely lost on my own,” he admitted.

_Not to mention freezing cold, and probably having to fend off more drunken perverts._

“Try not to wander around there again, Mr.Sleepwalker. I don't think your wife would be too thrilled.”

Josh glanced at the ring in his hand as he said so, and while his words were said in jest there was a certain sad undertone in his voice.

“There's other guys that come in, you know, also in the middle of the night, or when they're supposed to be at work,” he continued, looking straight in front of him. “They leave their wife at home and think they can leave that part of their life there with her too. It never ends well.”

Andrew looked away, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the way that conversation was going.

“That's not going to be an issue. I never went out like this before. Not so far at least,” he said. He hesitated before adding: “My son has been there before. I caught him... he lied to me about studying, and when I came to get him, that old bastard was chasing after him.”

He clenched his fists, he couldn't help but still resent him for that. Even more so now that he knew what kind of risk his son dodged.

“And you're angry at him for lying, or angry at him from going there?”

“It's not a kind of place a kid should wander in!”

“It's not, but there's not a lot of alternatives around, I fear. This isn't exactly the most progressive area.”

Andrew could not believe that guy was defending his son's actions! He didn't even know anything about him anyway.

“You know, if he didn't tell you, he probably had a good reason to think you would not accept him.”

Andrew wanted to snap back and tell him to mind his own business, but as much as he hated to, he couldn't help but wonder if there was any truth to it.

“I never said, nor did anything to make him think that,” he finally responded.

“That you know of,” Josh retorted. “And what you don't say can be as important as what you do.”

Andrew didn't know what to say to that, as he didn't know what the other man meant.

After a while, Josh finally continued.

“You know, I remember back in school, you didn't trash my things or call me a faggot to make yourself feel more macho. You didn't talk much to anyone, really, and you were different from the other guys. I... I really liked that. I always thought you were really handsome, and maybe...well, I didn't really think I had a chance, but I wanted to get closer. And so, you were always reading so I thought I'd ask like, 'oh what are you reading, it sounds cool. Wow, you must be really smart to read all that', and that sort of thing. I thought I would sound smooth and cool but then I barely could talk to you. But you still were patient, and didn't tell me to fuck off and go suck on a dick or anything like that, so I thought cool, maybe we could be friends.”

Andrew tried to remember that. He kind of briefly remembered something about the other talking to him about books, but it was really vague. Still, there was something that he was forgetting, he was sure. Something important.

“It was kind of fun. Well, for all it lasted.” Josh smiled bitterly. “Then they found out about it. And they started to trash your stuff too, and call you names.”

Andrew held his breath. He remembered that, he remembered all too well but it never clicked before. But now it did. And now, he didn't need him to keep talking to know how that story ended.

“So yeah, that's when you stopped talking to me. And I knew... I knew you didn't hate me. But you still would not be friends with someone like me.”

Andrew couldn't hold his gaze, so instead, he stared out of the window, feeling the guilt pooling up inside him.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry. It's an old story by now. But you see, it's not enough not to hate someone. You've got to let him know you have his back, no matter what, and that you're not ashamed of him. And if you can't do that, well, you can't be surprised he won't open up to you.”

Andrew mulled over his words for a while, wondering how much truth there was to them. He thought he'd never given Valentine any reason to believe he'd be ashamed of him, but then again he'd never been good at making his emotions come across clearly. He was always the one who had to be strict, and maybe Valentine thought that it meant he was never good enough for him? The thought disturbed him, especially because now he couldn't help but worry that it could be true.

Still, there was one other thing on his mind at the moment.

“Why did you help me out then?” he asked after a while. “If you can't trust me, why go out of your way to help me like this?”

Josh had said it himself, they had not been friends, and he had surely given him more than enough reason to resent him. So why would he go out of his way to help, even worrying enough to go look for him when he seemingly disappeared?

The other man shrugged and smiled.

“I had a feeling you had a reason to be there,” he said. “Besides, if it wasn't me then someone else would have chatted you up to get in his car, so who am I to waste the occasion to drive a hot guy back home?”

Andrew almost scoffed, feeling his face turn red from the compliment. He really wasn't used to that kind of attention from anyone else but Angela, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. At least this time it didn't come from a drunken asshole.

_Or the man who almost fucking murdered that said asshole._

By the time they arrived at home, he had managed to contact Valentine and get him to open the door for him, since he did not have his keys and he really did not want to wake Angela and have to explain himself, starting from why he came home half naked in some unknown man's jacket.

“Thank you.”

“Don't mention it! And don't go wandering at night again,” Josh told him with a small wink. “Unless you miss me, darling. Then you can visit me anytime!”

The moment he got to the door and saw Valentine's smirk, he almost regretted his decision to rely on the teen.

“So you got yourself a new boyfriend?”

Andrew sighed.

“God, just let me in already. I'm freezing.”

Valentine moved to let him pass, but he didn't seem to ignore the matter.

“Did you walk around like that?” he asked, his snarky tone leaving space to a more concerned one. “Hey, what's that?”

The teen's eyes went to his neck and Andrew realized he must have noticed the cut.

“I... nothing, I cut myself while shaving.”

The look in Valentine's eyes told him that he wasn't buying it, but he didn't care. He was far too exhausted to find a way to explain himself to the teen, the only thing he wanted in that moment was to take a shower and go back to bed, hopefully to remain there this time. As if to ensure of that, he locked the door from the inside and put the keys away from their usual place.

Before he could move towards the stairs, however, Valentine grasped his hand.

“Did you see him?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Andrew hesitated. “I think I did,” he said. “Only for a second.”

Valentine grimaced.

“I thought I could feel his presence.”

Andrew didn't ask how he could tell before the hold loosened and he finally could head upstairs.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for next week's chapter! 
> 
> Any feedback is always appreciated <3


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